


Be My Resurrection

by xcaellachx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adults are Blind to Bullying, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, BAMF Stiles, Banshee Lydia Martin, Bullying, Canon-Typical Violence, Derek Hale is a Demon Spirit, Explicit Sexual Content, Extreme bullying, F/F, F/M, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mentioned Braeden, Mentioned Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Mentioned Paige, Noah sucks, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski's Name is Genim, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 08:37:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10681671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcaellachx/pseuds/xcaellachx
Summary: Stiles is a powerful Spark, but it does no good when it comes to his lack of relationship with his father. Or with the kids at school who harass and bully him and his friends on a daily basis. He and Lydia have been searching for a magical way to change their lives. They come across a spirit who is willing to help them. But the spirit has his own agenda that will have be accepted if Stiles and his friends want to change things.Derek has been waiting for the opportunity to reverse what Kate had done to him two hundred years ago. Stiles may be the answer to all of his problems. If Stiles consents to being his. Forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! It's good to be back writing again. A few things:
> 
> Stiles' real name here is Genim. He is called that a lot and in the course of reading and writing it, it just flowed better than Mieczyslaw. Call it author laziness.
> 
> I have a few chapters already written out thanks to Camp NaNoWriMo, so I'll be posting those rather quickly. Then there will be probably be a week between updates.
> 
> In my fiction worlds, who you love, who you want to be with, or if you even want to be with someone, it doesn’t matter here. There is no prejudice on love in my writing. If I write about it at all, it will be in the past tense. In my world, people have gotten over thinking they have the right to judge people’s personal lives. Love who you wish, be who you wish, love yourself and others, that’s what matters to me.

For several weeks, he’d felt it growing closer. Something was coming, something that could change everything. Something that could change _him_. The closer he got to Beacon Hills, the stronger the feeling. It gave his black heart hope. He went so far as to quit taking requests until the one came through that he was waiting for. It would be soon. Two hundred years was too long to wait. It would finally be over when the right one came through.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

There  was a distinct difference between those who were popular and those who were not. It wasn’t in the way they dressed, most clothes these days tended to look the same unless you peeked at tags. No, it was in the way that the superior, popular students somehow knew who were the weak ones and then treated them as such. The unpopular kids, specifically the group of seven teens that this story is about, weren’t weak as in being sick – though Scott had a bad case of asthma – nor were they weak in character. Each teenager had something in their life that gave them a look, something that made them just a touch more vulnerable than the average student. Something that opened the door for ridicule and abuse. For instance the hunched shoulders of Stiles Stilinski who had lost his father the same day his mother died. Oh, his father still lived, but he stopped talking and interacting with his son. His best friend, Scott, had it in the wheezing breaths he took as the asthma wracked his lungs. It was also in the dark shadows under Isaac Lahey’s eyes because he still had nightmares about his father locking him in the freezer in the basement. For Lydia Martin, who had experienced the top of the high school popularity ladder, it was in the eyes. When her family had lost all their money, her friends had abandoned her, leaving her feeling betrayed and insecure in her place in life. Their other friends – Malia, Allison, Kira –  had their own demons - figuratively speaking, mind you – and all of them were deemed weak and ultimately worthy of all the abuse that was handed down to them on a daily basis. This is their story.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

The school day passed the same as any other for the group of seven seniors. Scott McCall had several asthma attacks. Malia Tate was tripped as she left the restroom, Lydia Martin got leered at by her ex-boyfriend and got her skirt flipped up. Isaac Lahey was shut in a locker and screamed until Coach Finstock ran over and let him out. Allison Argent was openly mocked all through lunch until the group had enough and went outside for the remainder of the period. And Stiles Stilinski? Well, he got a little bit of all of it. He had a panic attack after being locked in a supply closet. When he was released and saw his tormentors between classes, they tripped him and kicked him in the ribs while their friends formed a blockade so no teacher saw. He was limping and wheezing by the end of the day. It was the usual bullshit. Same shit, different day.

 

After school the motley group of friends met at Stiles’ house, like always. His father was never home, too busy as Sheriff to pay attention to what his son did. Stiles didn’t know why his father blamed him for his mother’s death, it had nothing to do with him, it was hereditary. But he was still blamed. Not openly, of course, but being shunned for the past seven years was clue enough. Sure, there was money left around for groceries and school stuff, but there was no caring, no love, no attention. John Stilinski lived his life at the Sheriff Station.

 

As sad as it was, it made Stiles’ house the best place for everyone to meet, unload about their days, receive the love and attention most of them didn’t get on a daily basis and urge each other to fight through one more day. One more day pushed them toward graduation and getting the hell out of town. Most of them had plans to go to college out of state while Malia just wanted out of there. Lydia was hoping to get into Oxford in England, far from anyone who knew her. With those kinds of goals, they had to work hard and helped each other with school work and tutoring in any areas they needed.

 

That day, Stiles and Isaac made up plates of food and took them up to Stiles’ room, which was set up perfectly for their group of friends. They’d each put in money for the bean bags, a small love seat, a few gamer chairs and plenty of blankets and pillows for the rare sleepovers they managed. The room was built around comfort and affection. Plenty of room to snuggle and get cuddles from each other as some of them never got any affection outside of the group.

 

First things first, as Stiles and Lydia trained them, homework was done as soon as they’d eaten. Stiles helped Malia and Scott with English, while Lydia helped Isaac with Biology and Kira and Allison worked together on their Economics lesson. The time wasn’t completely silent, spit balls were popular – though you had better not get any on Lydia or you would regret your own existence – as well as insults and teasing. Insults were always delivered lovingly, without ever using a trigger, but they still had plenty of fun razzing each other. Thanks to their work ethic, all seven of them – even Malia, who had started out more than two grades behind – were in the top ten percent of their class. It was all due to loving each other, being there, and giving a shit.

 

While Stiles’ dad liked to be absent, Scott’s mom had to work a shit ton of hours to pay for their house since her asshole ex ditched them for bigger and better things. Stiles knew it was really because he’d hurt Scott when he was a toddler and his dad had been drunk. Stiles had snuck into the police records, one of many times, but he never told his friend about it. It would hurt him too much. So while his mom loved him to death, Scott didn’t get to see her often.

 

Isaac was in foster care after his father was finally put in jail for beating the crap out of him on a daily basis. The foster home had so many kids in it, they didn’t pay much attention to Isaac as long as his chores were done and his grades were good. He was a serial cuddler, always ready, willing and able to snuggle with one of his friends. Lydia said he was touch starved because the only physical touch he’d ever had was abusive. They never turned him down and were happy to spoon or just run fingers through his curly hair.

Lydia had once been on top of the popularity ladder, with a rich family who gave her anything she wanted. She was a bit of a snobby bitch back then, ok, a really snobby bitch, even she could admit that now. Dressing in the latest clothes, driving a brand new car, she was the picture of perfection to her popular friends. But after the IRS discovered her dad hadn’t been paying taxes on anything for years, the money went away, as did the popularity. It was a smack in the face to her when her supposed friends all shunned her and sneered at her attempts to talk to them. She now dressed modestly and was surprisingly humble… with an edge. She wouldn’t be Lydia without it.

 

Kira Yukimura constantly fought against her parents wanting to turn her into the perfect little Asian girl. They didn’t like American pop culture and tried to restrict and monitor her time as much as possible. For instance, right now she was at her piano lesson. Just ask her teacher, Mrs. Snodgrass, an amazing older woman who knew how important it was for Kira to get some social time with her friends. Besides, Kira was amazing on the piano, but her parents insisted she could always be better.

 

Malia Tate had been in a car accident out of state with her mother and sister when she was nine, hitting her head and ending up in a coma for two weeks. She woke up with no memory of who she was or where she was. Her life became a worst case scenario story when her father never found her and she couldn’t remember who she was. She was in over fifteen different foster homes in seven years, never able to find a family that fit. When she was sixteen, she finally remembered who she was and was able to be returned to her father in Beacon Hills. She was still adjusting to normal life instead of life in a foster halfway house for kids with mental problems. Life still crapped on her as her father couldn’t understand how she survived and not his wife and youngest daughter. They never bonded and it left Malia feeling like she didn’t have any roots.

 

Allison had been moved around most of her life due to her father’s security company. When her mom committed suicide, her father finally decided to settle down. Allison was badly scarred by her mother’s death. The woman had stabbed herself on Allison’s own bed. That made Ally think it was because of something she had done, no matter what her dad or her friends said. Everyone but her knew it wasn’t her fault, but it was a burden she continued to carry.

 

As with many groups of friends, they had dated within their little circle. Allison and Scott had lasted the longest at two years. Then there was Stiles and Malia which lasted exactly one month. They both laughingly agreed they made better friends then lovers. Not that they’d done anything. Though it wasn’t talked about, they all knew who was still a virgin (Stiles, the only one, sadly) and who had the most sex (Malia and Lydia). If you asked Stiles about any potential couplings in the future, he would tease about him marrying Lydia, who he’d had a crush on since third grade. Now, though, they were the best of friends, kindred spirits. But really, Stiles would call a surprising threesome with Scott, Allison and Isaac. There were just too many long, meaningful glances between the three of them. Scott and Allison had broken up, but still flirted and kissed (and maybe more) on occasion. But both of them were staring at Isaac like they were hungry and he was a piece of meat. Poor Isaac wouldn’t know what hit him when he finally got a clue and joined in.

 

After snacks and homework, they unloaded about their day, completely honest, even about the painful parts, both emotional and physical. People would think Stiles wanted to be a doctor or an EMT if they looked in his bathroom closet. He had a fully stocked first aid kit and various other medical equipment. There were even stitch kits in there that Lydia and Allison knew how to use after training for weeks with Scott’s mom, Melissa. She was a sweet, overworked woman who was not blind to what went on in the high school, though every time she went in there to raise hell there was zero evidence and the school faculty always sided with the popular kids. She trained them in first aid and snuck them what supplies she could for the various cuts, bruises, and sprains they got.

 

Finally, after the ritual of sharing their day and once again wrapping poor Stiles’ ribs, Lydia spoke up in a tone that got everyone’s attention, causing Stiles to sit up straighter. He was excited for this part, it could change everything.

 

“We’ve been doing some reading,” Lydia began.

 

To most, this would be followed by a discussion of some random, mundane piece of fiction or something. But that particular phrase meant something to this group. They knew it meant she and Stiles had been reading in the supernatural books again.

 

Unlike most people, this group of teens were quite aware of the supernatural world around them. They knew there were two werewolves at school, Erica and Boyd, who were also a couple. Lydia was a banshee who, after months of struggles, finally had her powers under control and didn’t drive around insensate until she found a dead body anymore. Now she had honed her power until she could let the police know through anonymous tips where to find the latest victim. Stiles was a powerful Spark which meant he was open to the supernatural, could sense it and work with it, in other words, he could work spells. Lydia helped him only because she could understand it better than the others. The power was all Stiles’.

 

For over a year they had been searching for a spell, something that might make their lives better. They had pooled their money and between Stiles and Lydia, they’d found magical tomes that might contain what they were looking for. Luck, influence, popularity, safety even. They would take it, whatever it was. One time, they hit on a luck spell that landed them with a ten thousand dollar scratch ticket. Unfortunately, the next day, five of them had flat tires on their vehicles. Karmic retribution. It was a real thing. Most of the money went to the tires. The other part went towards clothes for Isaac and Malia, then to their hang out space in Stiles’ room.

 

“Did you find something?” Kira asked, excitement making her bounce in her bean bag seat.

 

Lydia looked at Stiles and they turned and nodded at the group. A rousing cheer filled the room before Stiles held up a hand.

 

“You remember what happened last time with the tires? There will be a price for this one too. Only this time, I believe we’ll find out the price before we agree to receiving the prize. Then, as a group, we will decide if we still want to go through with it,” he explained, his golden eyes twinkling with energy.

 

“What is it?” Allison asked, ever the suspicious one.

 

She had a right to be this time.

 

“We will be contacting a spirit who would, if we are found worthy, end our problems and help us with accomplishing future goals,” Lydia told them. “The only thing is, I am pretty sure the spirit is a demon of some sort. Maybe a hell god or demi god. But as we’ve discussed before, karma works with us whether the spirit is evil or good. It would depend on our intentions. If we ask for bad things to happen, then karma will see that the price we pay is even higher. However, if we are seen as pure, or as close as we can get, the price should be small enough to deal with.”

 

“What kind of price are we talking about here?” Isaac was huddled into Scott’s side on the love seat, the shorter teen squeezing Isaac’s neck comfortingly. “We have no money other than our emergency fund.”

 

“That is what we would be asking before we agreed to do anything else,” Stiles answered. “The spell isn’t clear on that aspect. We would use the spirit board to contact the spirit and go from there. So. What are you all doing Sunday night?”

 

“Why Sunday night?” Scott asked, looking pale, his hand falling from Isaac’s neck into his hand so they were grasping each other tightly.

 

Allison squeezed his knee from her place on the floor. “Probably because it’ll be a full moon right?”

 

Lydia and Stiles nodded. “Exactly. The spirit has something to do with wolves, so it likes the full moon. That is the best time to contact it, that’s why we’re only now bringing it up.”

 

“I’m in,” Malia said. “I am sick to freaking death of my life the way it is and I want something better. I deserve, no we all deserve, something better.”

 

Isaac nodded. “Me too. I’m in. I can sneak out easily enough.”

 

One by one they all agreed to be at the entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve Sunday ready to do the spell. Ready to change their lives.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

From the mists of Nowhere, he heard them and knew they would be calling on him soon. There was one among them, a beautiful young innocent who could fit. Would this one answer his need? Free him from this… existence? He hoped as much as they did that this would be a good fit. It could be everything he’s wanted for the past two hundred years. Ever since She had turned him into this.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

After another pain filled week – Stiles got a busted rib and needed stitches in his thigh from a ‘mysterious’ stabbing accident in the lunch room – the seven met in the Preserve, flashlights at the ready as they made their way through the tall, untamed grass.

 

“What are we looking for? The Name-uh-what?” Scott asked, flinging his flashlight this way and that.

 

“The Nemeton, buddy,” Stiles told him with a chuckle. His friend could have easily been blonde in another life. “Lydia and I found it a few weeks ago and discovered the thing likes to move around so only those of purest motivation could find it and call upon its power.”

 

“So no thinking about sex there, Scott,” Malia teased, shoving Scott with her elbow.

 

“Says the girl who got caught in the janitor’s closet with that new foreign exchange girl just yesterday,” Isaac retorted.

 

“That was you?” Kira asked with a giggle. “You didn’t tell me.”

 

“Only because you would have gotten there first,” Malia said with a wink.

 

“Bitch,” Kira grinned.

 

“Slut,” Malia returned.

 

“Duh,” they both said and bumped shoulders as they laughed.

 

“Okay guys,” Stiles said, stopping everyone a moment later. “I can feel we are getting closer to the Nemeton. Now, as much as we all love to joke around, it’s time to stop. From here on out, I want you concentrating on what you want out of this. College, no more bullying, a peaceful and comfortable home life, time with parents, the ability to buy what you need, where you want to go and be in the future.” Stiles was listing off things they had all agreed they wanted during text conversations the past week. “We need to enter the area full of good intent, so the spirit can see we are serious about this. Really take a moment to think of what you want. What could make your life perfect?”

 

The area was silent and Stiles could tell they were all really turning their minds to what he said. He knew what he wanted. His dad. He wanted his dad back. To have that close relationship with his father, to be friends as well as family, involved in each other’s lives. Second to that, he wanted to go to college. He wanted to be a writer and major in Creative Writing with a minor in Journalism so he could have more job opportunities available to him. Third, he just wanted to finish out the rest of the year in peace. No more accidental stabbings or being shoved or teased or mocked. He just wanted to be with his friends, loved and happy. Was that really too much to ask for? He took a deep cleansing breath and let it out slowly, balancing his Spark.

 

“Alright, let’s go folks. Good intentions at the forefront of your minds at all times. Remember, if we go in wanting revenge on those who have hurt us, we will only end up with a price none of us are willing or able to pay,” Stiles warned one last time. “Also, keep your voices low.”

 

Turning, he walked further into the forest, following the pinging feeling of his Spark as it led him to the Nemeton, an ancient tree which was now only a stump. Someone had once thought to rid the tree of its power if it was chopped down, the wood made into good luck charms. Every person who’d had a hand in chopping the majestic redwood down had died within a week. Instead of growing weaker, the tree seemed to get stronger. It sometimes even called Sparks to it in order to carry out its bidding. Usually innocuous things like prayers, healing for the surrounding forest, that sort of thing.

 

Chanting to himself, he closed his eyes and walked in the direction his Spark was pointing. When he opened his eyes only seconds later, he was standing in front of the Nemeton, once again in awe of the size of the magical stump. It was easily six feet or more in diameter. He could lay on it and there would still be room left.

 

Holding up his hand so his friends would stop, he brought out the offering for the Nemeton, a mixture of different herbs and crystals, spelled to bless the wild life and plant life surrounding it. As he laid them on the surface, he felt the approval from the Nemeton like lapping waves through his Spark. It was like the stump was saying “Go ahead and do what you came for.”

 

“Okay, it’s time. Isaac, the spirit board, please?”

 

When the board was placed in an optimal location, he set up a few candles, called in the corners of the Earth: North, South, East and West, asking for their time to be protected and that they do no harm. The candles flared gently and he knew it was time.

 

“Surround the Nemeton please, evenly distanced as best you can, like we practiced.” Lydia directed them all, who should stand where according to a ritual Stiles had done to optimize their power as a group. “You ready, Genim?”

 

His Spark required him to use his birth name to perform magic and though he hated it, his friends didn’t. During magic, he had to be his base self, so Genim it was.

 

“Let’s do this,” he said. Muttering in Latin to himself, he spread the board and several of the runes this specific spirit required in order to call him forth. Then he closed his eyes, raised his hands, and began speaking.

 

“Spiritus Benedícat vos in tempore dicimus. Nos votum vos supplices tibi, et a nobis sumptus est.”

(Spirit, we call upon you to bless us in this time. We offer supplication to you and ask the cost of our wishes.)

 

For a moment the wind picked up and the candles flickered in response to his words, then all went still.

 

“Now we wait,” Genim said quietly.

 

“Until?” Malia asked, always the impatient one.

 

“Until the spirit answers. Keep your eyes on the board,” Lydia instructed, a notebook and pen already out to jot down the letters of whatever the spirit board showed them.

 

After a few minutes of quiet, they heard the sound of wood moving against wood, and there it was, the planchette was moving across the board. Lydia quickly jotted down what it was spelling out, saying it aloud as it became clear.

 

“I have heard you call upon my name and I am prepared to hear your requests and answer them all,” Lydia read aloud when she had the message and the planchette stopped moving.

 

“Spirit, what is the price you require?” Genim asked, looking at the spirit board.

 

After a moment, Lydia spoke again. “It will depend on the prayers and wishes desired.”

 

“How shall we impart the prayers and wishes to you?”

 

“I will come upon you myself to discern the true yearnings of your heart,” a disembodied voice said.

 

Genim jerked his head up to look at Lydia, but she was shaking her head, eyes wide. The voice wasn’t coming from her. They all looked around and a finally saw a blacker than black shadow standing about twenty feet away from them. The night was dark, the candles casting enough light to where everything else was black. But the shadow standing next to a tree was even darker, the absence of light and color.

 

“Close your eyes, little lost ones,” the deep voice instructed. “I will be quick and then will be the time to negotiate.”

 

Genim nodded to everyone and they closed their eyes. This was what they had prepared for. He opened up his mind and waited.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

He approached the group and started with the small Asian girl, Kira. Mmm, she wanted to get away from the influence and demands of her parents. She wanted to be graceful and beautiful, wanted by all who saw her. That was something she hadn’t shared with her friends. Less so were her dreams of attending school to become a biologist. Easy enough, he thought.

 

Next was Scott. Ah, a juicy bit. He wanted vengeance for his mother having to raise him all alone. He wanted his father to suffer. Under that was the desire for healing from a lung disease. He wanted to be a veterinarian, very sweet. He wanted his friends to be happy. This boy was so cute and sweet, he could have been a puppy in another life.

 

Isaac, tall and beautiful. He wanted his father to pay for the years of abuse and neglect. Delicious! The taste was like candy on his tongue. His father was already in prison and this youth wanted him to die there. He searched around for more desires and dreams, but that desire was so strong, it overpowered everything else he may want. Except for… what was that? Oh my, he wanted the pale, dark haired girl and the puppy-like boy to be his. Interesting!

 

Allison, so sad over the loss of her mother. She wanted revenge against her mother’s father, the man she secretly blamed for pushing her mother over the edge. She believed he had a hand in it and she wanted him to pay. So many bloodthirsty thoughts in these kids! This was so much better than he originally thought. The more they wanted it, needed him, made it easier for him to help. Made them more likely to accept his terms. The girl also wanted to get away from the abuse at the high school and go to college.

 

Moving on, there was the wild beauty, Malia. She wanted a new life altogether. To have a mother and father who loved her, not a foster parent or a father who looked at her like she’s a freak because she had survived her mother and sister. Because she had survived where others had not. She didn’t care about college, but she wanted her friends to be taken care of. Fiercely protective, this one.

 

Ah, Lydia the banshee was next. What a deliciously vindictive little thing. All the boys at school who victimized her and her friends, he saw their faces flashing through her mind loud and clear; she wanted them taken down. In a horribly painful and embarrassing way. Especially one named Jackson Whittemore. She was broadcasting this loud and clear, knowing he would see it. Fantastic! What a vengeful little thing! She could do his job, her thoughts of revenge were so thorough. Her other desires included Genim being taken care of and being accepted into college in England. He was having so much fun with this delicious creature, he didn’t want to move on, but knew he had to. Many things had changed since he became like this and enjoying vengeance and revenge was one of them.

 

 It was fun, deal with it.

 

Last and certainly not least, Genim or Stiles as his friends called him. This was the one he was looking for, he just knew it. Yes, he was a virgin, so innocent, yet so eager and thirsty for knowledge about intimate things. So very sweet! Let’s see, what did this adorable creature want? Oh, wow, how powerful his intentions and thoughts were. _My friends, protect my friends, please give them what they want. Want my dad back, miss him so much. And please protect Dad, dangerous job, poor relationship, wish it was better. College, please let me get into college, far away from here. Closer to dad but far from here. Please help my friends, please help them, such good friends, deserve every good thing. Thank you, spirit. I hope the price isn’t too high. Worth anything to see his friends happy, to see dad love him again. Please._

 

Genim was everything he’d ever hoped for, longed for, everything he needed. He kissed the boys porcelain cheek, noting the lovely dark moles dotting his perfect complexion. The boy gave a small shiver that shook his lithe frame, making him want to do more. Not here, not now. He was ready to tell them his price. He receded back to the tree, he was once again nothing more than a shadow.

 

“Open your eyes, young ones.” He saw them obey and try to strain their eyes to see him, though they would never succeed. Soon that would change. “Such a bloodthirsty little group, I must say,” he began and heard Genim gasp in fear and dismay. “Worry not, Genim. My price won’t even affect most of you. Just a small thing, really, and every thought you had in your heads will be yours.”

 

“Thank you, Spirit,” Genim said shakily. Damn it, he’d told them to stay away from vengeful thoughts. “What is your price?”

 

“My price is to own one of you for the rest of your human life,” he said casually, smiling at their immediate reactions.

 

“Hell no,” Malia cried and Scott echoed quickly.

 

Kira bit her lip, trying not to break down at the hopelessness of the situation. They’d been so close.

 

Allison just stood there, her mouth open in shock.

 

“What the hell?” Lydia whispered fiercely, her anger boiling up into a scream in her throat until a hand landed on her shoulder. Genim shook his head at her.

 

“What does this person have to do if they belong to you?” Genim asked, trying to stay calm.

 

“Good question, Genim, you certainly know how to react calmly, unlike your friends. This person would be mine and yet would live their life as they would have without me. I would simply be a part of their life. No harm would come to the person, no soul stealing or anything so tacky. The rest of you would get what you asked for and go on to live happy, fulfilled lives,” he told them, keeping his voice even and smooth as he saw his own future becoming clear for the first time in hundreds of years.

 

“Who would it be? Do we get to decide?” Lydia asked, her anger finally under control as she watched Genim and tried to mimic his calm.

 

“I have already picked the person, all they would have to say is yes and all of this would be over. I will come to them later and speak with them about what would happen,” the spirit explained.

 

“And you promise no harm would come to the person?” Isaac asked.

 

“I would be willing to make it a blood oath,” he assured them.

 

“What’s the catch?” Malia demanded. “There is always a catch.”

 

“Well, I guess there is one tiny little thing,” the spirit said and the group held their breath as they waited to hear. “The person would never fall in love with or have a romantic relationship or sexual relations with anyone.” Except me. But he left that part out. For now.

 

“Ever?” Kira whispered.

 

“Ever,” he confirmed.

 

“Can we talk about it amongst ourselves for a minute?” Genim asked.

 

“Of course. It is a big decision. I will return in five minutes for your answer and then I will announce who I have chosen. Please stay in position, however, or we’ll have to do this another time,” the spirit said. He couldn’t risk losing this chance.

 

The friends watched as the shadow seemed to spin around them in a dark wind for a moment.

 

“Say yes,” he whispered. With that, he was gone.

 

“I’m in,” Genim said. “I will do it if it’s me or I will support whoever it is. But we have to be unanimous or it’s not fair to whomever is chosen.”

 

“I agree and I am in as well,” Lydia said, wishing she could cuddle into Stiles for comfort but knowing she had to keep her place.

 

“But I wanted to have children someday,” Allison said, tears in her big brown eyes.

 

“Me too, but I want everyone to have their dreams come true just as much. I’ll be okay with being an auntie to all of your kids if needed,” Kira said. “I’m in.”

 

“I’m in,” Isaac said, looking like he was shivering though it wasn’t cold outside.

 

Scott sighed. “For everyone to get what they want and knowing it’ll lead to six other people being happy, I have to do it. I’m in.”

 

Allison whimpered. “I’m in, too, it’s for everyone else.” You could almost tell she was sure the spirit was choosing her, she seemed so resigned. “I want sworn promises that the rest of us won’t just scamper off into the sunset and forget about the person who is sacrificing so much. That wouldn’t be fair. One person is literally paying the price for the rest of the group.”

 

There were murmurs as everyone agreed with her.

 

“I’m willing to do a blood oath, right here and now,” Genim said. “That way it’s before we know who it is, so we’re all standing on equal ground.”

 

“Agreed,” Lydia said and the others nodded. Allison looked relieved, but still frightened. “Who has a knife?”

 

“I have my athame,” Genim said, pulling out his magically enhanced blade. It had a beautiful black onyx handle and a double-edged blade. “We will all make a small cut in one finger on each hand, then hold hands around the circle. The Nemeton will bear witness and help solidify the oath. If you don’t think you can swear to this, say so now. If you back out on this oath, you will have the wrath of the Nemeton on you. And don’t worry, if you just can’t visit or something, it’ll be fine. But if you consciously or subconsciously choose to abandon the one who is chosen, you’ll be up shit creek. Everyone still in agreement?” He had no doubts, his friends were all good people deep down. This was more just a statement from all of them saying they’ll stick together forever.

 

Six nods came his way after his explanation so he quickly made a cut in both of his forefingers and passed the athame around. When it to back to him, he put it back in its sheath.

 

“Ok, grab hands. By the power of spirit, friendship, and the Nemeton, we all stand in agreement as one that we will not abandon the one chosen by the spirit. Not now and not in ten years, not for as many years as we are alive. We ask the Nemeton to witness and seal this promise now,” Genim called out, his Spark flowing through him and into the Nemeton.”

 

With that, they all felt a heat in their hands and a feeling of complete unity flowed through them. The candle flames suddenly went two feet into the air before blowing out and their hands were released.

 

“So may it be,” Stiles said as he did a quick spell to re-light the candles.

 

“That makes me feel better,” Allison said with a weak smile.

 

“Me too, Ally,” Isaac said with a wink. “I like knowing we won’t be alone, even if it’s not me that’s chosen.”

 

Lydia and Genim exchanged meaningful looks. They’d already figured it out, of course. There were only a few things a demon or spirit would look for in a pseudo mate, which is what this obviously was. Lydia squeezed his hand and mouthed _I love you._ Stiles whispered it back with a wink.

 

Just moments later, the planchette on the spirit board began swirling before they all heard a rustling sound as the spirit appeared next to the same tree it had been near earlier.

 

“Are we all agreed then?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

 

“We are. Please announce whom you have chosen,” Genim answered, his voice firm. If only his stomach was as brave as his mind.

 

“I think you already know, don’t you, Genim ‘Stiles’ Stilinski?” the spirit asked. Though they couldn’t see any physical features, Stiles could plainly hear the spirit smirking.

 

“I do,” he said and heard his friends gasp. Except Lydia.

 

“You already knew and you didn’t tell us?” Allison cried. “How could you?”

 

“Because I wanted the blood oath to make sure I’d never be alone. It’s an awful feeling,” Genim said honestly.

 

“Wait, it’s you?” Scott blurted, always a little slow on the uptake.

 

“It is, indeed,” the spirit said. “It was easy to figure out once you think about how important purity is to the spirit world. Genim, do you swear to be mine in front of the Nemeton and your friends as witness?”

 

Genim swallowed heavily. “I do so swear.”

 

“Good choice. In return, you have my solemn word sworn in front of the Nemeton that I will make good on my promises.” His voice went from the deep, firm voice he’d used to make his commitment back to the teasing voice he’d been using all along. “And with that taken care of, all of your wishes will come true. Make sure to thank your friend, boys and girls. I will be going now. I will see you soon, Genim.” With that, a wind suddenly whipped around them and with a loud hum, a black shadow encircled Genim before disappearing with a pop.

 

Stiles would swear he’d been kissed on the cheek just then. Bizarre. Was this the way his life would be now? With a black wisp as a mate?

 

“Can we move yet, Stiles?” Malia demanded.

 

“You can,” Stiles answered, relieved to return to his nickname. He moved to pick up their supplies when he was suddenly encompassed in a seven person hug. Unable to hold it in, he shuddered hard in their arms. Scott was closest and squeezed him hard, whispering in his ear. “You are the bravest person I’ve ever met. We will never abandon you, I promise.”

 

“Never, Stiles.”

 

“I love you, Stiles.”

 

“Thank you, Stiles.”

 

“We’re all here for you, Stiles.”

 

The friends took several minutes to comfort their friend before they broke apart and packed up the equipment before leaving the forest. The half hour walk it took them to find the Nemeton turned into a two minute jaunt back to their cars. Stiles sent up a praise of thanks for that. He was shaky enough, he didn’t need to be exhausted from picking his way through the woods on top of it.

 

“Want me to drive?” Scott asked.

 

“Thanks,” was all he said.

 

Without having to ask, they all met at Stiles’ house and trooped up the stairs to his room. Malia and Kira whipped up some sandwiches and drinks and brought them up a few minutes later and they all sat around eating. The room was quiet, but Stiles knew someone would break the silence soon.

 

Looking at Stiles, Malia suddenly gave him a wicked grin. “Bet you wish you’d tapped this last summer, don’t you?”

 

Everyone froze, not knowing if it was safe to joke about the topic as fresh and raw as it was.

 

“Bitch,” Stiles shot back and busted up laughing. Everyone joined in and like that, the tension was cut. They knew they could talk about it openly now, just like everything else in their lives that had sucked so bad. His friends laughed with him until Stiles sighed deeply, wiping the tears of laughter from his face. “And that is why I wanted all of you to stick around and not abandon me. I need that kind of levity in my life,” he said with a wink at Malia.

 

“Was it really the virginity thing that made him choose you?” Isaac asked. He was the most removed from the supernatural topics, always getting lost in the rules of this or that when they discussed it. “I mean, you’re a guy and I’m pretty sure he was too.”

 

Stiles nodded. “Purity to any supernatural being is an important thing. And guy or girl wouldn’t matter. Not even when gender was an issue with society, which was ridiculous. I’m so glad we’re past that time, by the way. It would have been great to have the gods come down and beat on those who had a problem with who people chose to love. I think the small groups of people slowly finding out that the supernatural world was real helped get their mind off who people slept with. There were much bigger issues at hand. It’s funny that sexuality was such a big issue, so open in the public, but now, it’s the supernatural world that is in the closet. Or broom closet,” he said with a chuckle as his friends moaned at his terrible pun. “I guess maybe in fifty years, people will be able to discuss werewolves, sparks, and the like out in the open.”

 

His friends knew he was rambling, but it was better than crying. Better than screaming “why me!” like he wanted to do. Better than running and trying to escape his fate. So, he would maintain his calm. Keep his friends in the forefront of his mind. They were the reason he was doing this, them and his own life. It would be worth it. Eventually.

 

“Out of curiosity, any reason why our new friend called us a bloodthirsty bunch?” Stiles asked, a parental eyebrow arching high as he looked at his friends. He saw some blushes rise up and he smiled. He had made sure he kept his mind on positive things. As much as he wanted Jackson Whittemore to wake up covered in lizard scales, and I don’t know, bleeding black out of his eyes and ears, he knew that wouldn’t happen. It wasn’t what you did when asking for supernatural help. That shit always backfired on you. He wanted to know who was after vengeance and who wasn’t.

 

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Scott, Isaac, Allison and Lydia all raised their hands.

 

“I couldn’t help it, Lydia said. “I know better and yet I just couldn’t help it. I don’t think the spirit was influencing us or anything, but when I pictured what I wanted, all I could see was all the crap we go through, what I go through at school on a daily basis. Being harassed, bullied, beaten up. I want it done and I want vengeance. I know it could backfire on me and I will accept the consequences.”

 

“Well, he said it wouldn’t matter as long as he got what he wanted, so I hope that’s what he sticks with,” Allison said. “All I could see was my grandfather constantly belittling my mother, butting in to her business and making her feel small and like she was less because she wasn’t born the boy he wanted. I guess that was what was most important to me.”

 

Isaac shrugged. “My biological sperm donor.”

 

Everyone nodded with sympathy. That was no surprise. Neither was Scott’s.

 

“Same here. I wanted my mom vindicated after all the crap she put up with from that asshole. All the money he never paid in child support, all the heartache and the long hours she has had to put in. She has never made me feel bad about it. Even though I do,” Scott admitted. Allison leaned in and gave him a hug while Isaac patted his arm on the other side.

 

“It’s understandable. I’m just hoping the spirit wasn’t lying and that me agreeing to this makes everything even across the board,” Stiles said.

 

“Stiles, what are you going to do? What is he going to do to you?” Kira asked, looping her arm through his.

 

“I’m just going to go with it. I don’t have any idea what he wants with me. There was no mention of slavery or anything. He said I could go on with normal life, just no significant other. I don’t know why,” Stiles rubbed her hand comfortingly. He actually had a thought about what the spirit might want, but it didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t possibly want Stiles as an actual mate, so that couldn’t be it. But why else would he care about purity? Oh, maybe he wanted Stiles to do magic for him. Being a virgin was pretty important and very helpful in many spells. “Probably magic. Virgin magic is pretty powerful.”

 

Lydia nodded. “That’s kind of what I was thinking. As long as you belong to him and stay a virgin, your magic will remain that much more powerful.”

 

“Do you know how much this sucks, though? No sex! Ever. For my entire life. No one night stands, no quickies. I’ll never learn if reverse cowgirl is better than normal cowgirl. Or if angry sex is really as good as people say. Or get a blow job. Or give a blow job. That’s really depressing folks,” Stiles said mournfully, unable to help the bitterness in his voice. “Figures. I think somehow I knew I’d end up alone.” The last came out in a whisper.

 

His friends had been nodding and cringing on his behalf as he lamented his loss of a sex life. They had all bragged at one point or another about something they’d experienced. Stiles had been looking forward to joining those conversations. Not anymore. But the last propelled them over to surround him once more with their caring and love.

 

Finally, it got late enough that it was time for everyone to sneak back into their houses before school which started in just a few hours.

 

As they walked out, Malia asked Lydia when she thought their wishes would start coming true.

 

The redhead shrugged. “It could be as soon as now or some odd time in the future. It all depends on how happy the spirit is with getting Stiles in return for all our requests.”

 

“He should be ecstatic if he’s worth anything. Stiles is amazing. He’s getting the best of us,” Malia grumbled. Then she turned and glared at her friends who had gathered close by to hear Lydia’s answer. Pointing at them she said in a near growl, “You all better hold up your end of the blood oath. If you all get what you wanted and get all caught up in it and leave Stiles alone to deal with this spirit guy, I will make you pay. The bullies will look like cream puffs compared to what I will do to you. Got it?”

 

There were several gulps as everyone quickly nodded.

 

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Lydia said with a smile as she got in her car.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek have their first meeting. Then Derek tells us his side of the story.

Stiles couldn’t sleep. He’d lain there for an hour and now he was down to only three more hours before he had to be up for school. All he could think about was the fact that he now belonged to a spirit. And couldn’t have sex. Ever.

 

He jerked up, sitting in his bed. Oh shit! “No more Stiles Time?” he whimpered.

 

“Of course you can touch yourself,” a voice said as a shadowy figure took form near his cracked open window. It was still dark so all Stiles could see was the shape of a tall, well-built man. “I would like to see it for myself, in fact.”

 

Stiles’ heart jumped so hard he thought it was going to stop. “Holy shit, dude! A little warning that you’re going to stop by would be nice.”

 

A gentle chuckle filled the room. “I was teasing about watching you, mostly. Of course you can continue any private touching you want. Your body belongs to you. Also, my apologies, Genim, for frightening you. I just wanted to stop in and discuss our arrangement. "

 

Shrugging, Stiles slowly moved to the edge of his bed, holding onto his broken rib. He was relieved to know he could continue Stiles Time, though that part of the discussion could stop, because, yeesh! Discussing his personal life with a demon? No thanks. “Well, it’s not like I was sleeping.”

 

“Indeed, I came when I figured you weren’t going to drift off. I would have been surprised if you had been able to sleep, actually. Your entire life changed tonight,” the spirit replied, a smile in his voice.

 

“Indeed,” Stiles repeated cynically. He was too tired and upset to watch his words.

 

“Genim, you don’t have to worry about speaking to me in a certain way. Speak to me as you would any other acquaintance. Try not to be too upset. Remember, you and your friends are getting everything you asked for. Your lives are going to change for the better. No more bullying, better relationships, better living conditions, hope for the future with college and jobs. Can you try to keep that in mind?”

 

The spirit actually sounded like he was trying to make him feel better. Odd. “Yeah, that does make things better. What will it mean to belong to you, though?” Might as well get to what he was most concerned about.

 

“Well, you already belong to me, as of now. And it means just this. We’ll spend time together, talk, get to know one another, do things together. Companions, I suppose, of a sort,” he said.

 

“Do you have any other forms?” Stiles was curious if he would be looking at a shadow for the rest of his life.

 

“I do, as a matter of fact. I may have slipped into your mind momentarily to see what you found most attractive, so at least I could be pleasing to look upon,” the spirit said as Stiles’ light suddenly turned on.

 

Stiles blinked against the bright light and his eyes fell on the tall figure leaning against the window. He couldn’t help his jaw dropping as he took the man in. He was tall, probably a bit taller than Stiles. His hair was black as night, thick and styled messily, like fingers had been raking through it. Thick, dark brows didn’t quite cast shadows over light green eyes that twinkled at him as he stared in awe. A straight nose and a full mouth tilted up in a grin that was surrounded by the most perfect amount of dark stubble. He was dressed in jeans that fit just right, a dark green shirt and a sexy leather jacket lay over his broad shoulders. This guy screamed ‘bad boy’ from top to bottom. Bottom, hmm. Did this guy’s ass match the rest of him?

 

This is the type of guy Stiles would never have approached because he was out of Stiles’ league, but also the type Stiles would jack off to thoughts of, every single day of his life.

 

“Is this form pleasing to you, Genim?” he asked, a smirk saying he already knew the answer. His voice was different from his shadowy form, gentler than he would expect coming out of that body.

 

Stiles cleared his throat, trying not to drool as he continued to notice little things. The muscular thighs and the fit of his tight jeans that let him know this guy was large _all_ over.

 

“Um yeah, uh huh.”

 

The man laughed, his voice smoother than the raspy sounds Stiles had heard when he was in his shadow form.

 

“Do you have a name that I should call you?” Stiles asked, trying to move on from the devastatingly gorgeous creature in front of him.

 

“You can call me Derek,” he replied, choosing the name he’d gone by when he was a human, so very long ago. The hope was building in his cold heart that he might finally find freedom. The fact that Stiles’ mind had revealed he would find his original human form pleasing and attractive had just been a bonus. He now looked and sounded as he had two hundred years ago.

 

“Derek, it’s nice to meet you. I am Genim, but you can call me Stiles, if you like,” he said, still trying to get over the fact that he now belonged to this gorgeous creature.

 

“I will in public, if need be. But I would rather use your given name. I think it suits you,” Derek replied. Besides, it was more personal, which was what he wanted with Genim.

 

“Okay, that’s fine. So, Derek, what can I do for you? What do you need from me?” Stiles wanted to get down to the nitty gritty and know what the heck was going to be happening in his life.

 

“Genim, the reason I made it a mandate that you have no other relationships is because you belong to me, you are mine,” Derek told him, green eyes bright and intense.

 

Stiles cocked his head in confusion. “I know, that’s what you told us earlier.”

 

“Genim, you are mine. _I_ am your relationship. I am your mate. And if and when you desire it, you can slake your body’s lust with my own. As I wish to do with you,” he said with a heated gaze that seared into Stiles’ soul.

 

Mate. Mine. Relationship. With a demon spirit? Oh god, what the hell?! Sex with him? While, yeah, the guy was hotter than the sun, having sex with a spirit… what would that do to him?

 

“Would being with you.. um.. change me at all?” Stiles had to know.

 

“No, sweet Genim, it would not change you. I would hope it would change you in the way of making you happy, but that is it,” Derek assured him.

 

Okay. He might need some time to let this all sink in. Okay. Mate. Mate?

 

“I see you need some time to adjust to all of this. I will leave you soon and seek you out again later. But first, if you could allow me a few more minutes of your time, I want to do a couple of things for you. It would mean me touching you, though nothing overly personal,” Derek said, trying to broadcast to the freaked out human that he meant no harm. Just the opposite in fact.

 

Stiles was hesitant, but knew that part of this deal was accepting whatever the spirit wanted. “O…. okay,” he agreed finally.

 

Derek approached him slowly and Stiles could tell he was being careful. “First, remember I offered the blood oath to bring you no harm?”

 

Stiles nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

 

“I would like to create a bond between the two of us done in the same fashion as the blood oath. It would open me up to receiving your more intense emotions. Like pain or sadness or anger. Anything that I might be able to help you with. You may feel free to turn me away or you may okay my appearing – hidden from humans, no worry there – to offer my assistance,” Derek said, his face open and sincere.

 

“Is this like mind reading?” Stiles had to know. That was just too damn intrusive.

 

Derek shook his head. “Absolutely not. That would drive me crazy. No, this would just alert me to know you are in need. Then I would either check in with you mentally or appear where you are.”

 

“How could you check in mentally?”

 

_Like this,_ Derek said, only Stiles heard him as if it was a thought in his own mind, though it felt different. His Spark was able to tell the difference.

 

“Okay, that’s freaking weird. But I get it. How would you be hidden from the humans?”

 

“I have a way to appear as if I had just walked up to you or that I had been there the whole time only the other humans hadn’t noticed me,” Derek explained. “It’s a nice trick to have.”

 

“Yeah, it would be,” Stiles chuckled, thinking of the opportunities with that power. “I could take advantage of that little party trick and mess with a lot of people. Have you show up and scare the crap out of somebody or something.”

 

Derek glowed at the idea of Stiles wanting him to be involved in a part of his life. Even if it was just to have fun.  Maybe Stiles really was the One. “So, in order to do this, it’s just like any other blood oath. We both prick a finger and hold hands as I say a few words. I swear, contact with my blood in this form, will have no impact on you whatsoever, other than the intention we are giving it. Are you willing to do this?”

 

Stiles thought for a moment. Having Derek show up when Jackson is ready to kick his ass would be awfully helpful. Or during a panic attack. It definitely wouldn’t hurt anything. Besides, this was part of the price he’d agreed to pay. Why make a fuss about it? “I’m in.”

 

Derek’s smile revealed dimples in his cheeks and that did _not_ make his heart jump in his chest. “Excellent. Do you happen to have your athame available?”

 

Stiles got out of bed, giving a small gasp as his rib and thigh grabbed at the sudden movement. He got the blade and said a little cleansing spell over it, at the same time, spelling it to only do good things, in case Derek had the idea of doing something with evil intent. “Does it matter which finger is used?”

 

“Not at all,” Derek said, watching him closely.

 

Stiles opened up the same finger he’d used earlier and then handed the blade, handle side first, to Derek, who easily sliced open his forefinger. They grasped hands and Stiles inhaled sharply at the tingle of heat that coursed through his body at the touch.

 

Derek, too, gasped. It took everything in him not to cry. He was a freaking demi god and this human was taking him apart. He was the One. He was Derek’s salvation, his mate, his freedom. Clearing his throat, he saw Stiles was too buried in his own thoughts to see Derek’s slip.

 

“In hoc sanguine, ut nos mutuo animis aperi nobis. Testor ego praesidium, auxilium, et huic dedication. Permanet in aeternum beatus esset.,” Derek intoned in Latin.

(With this blood, we open our minds to one another. I swear protection, help and dedication to this man. May he ever be blessed.)

 

Luckily Stiles was fluent in Latin and understood everything Derek said. He felt the snap of the oath taking place between them. The words seemed to click into place between them, sealing them together. For a moment after Derek finished speaking, Stiles allowed himself to luxuriate in the sensation of their hands being joined. The tingle was warm and felt inviting. Then he remembered he had just made a freaking oath with the spirit that allowed him to feel what Stiles felt. He was sure his comfort and burgeoning arousal was strong enough to cross the bond between them. Fuck.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed, Genim. I feel it too. It is odd, isn’t it? Yet it feels good,” Derek said, as he felt the embarrassment flooding from is mate. It would take time to get used to the feelings from him. He hadn’t gotten this far with the lovely Paige. Jennifer, on the other hand, did go through the oath with him and that’s how he found out she was only using him for his power. “There is one more thing I would like to do. It’s a little more intrusive on your person. I’d like to heal you,” Derek offered. He wanted to offer a piece of his power to see how Genim reacted to it. Would he be like Jennifer and want everything from him? Or would Genim continue to surprise him with his big heart?

 

“You can do that?” At Derek’s nod, Stiles gave a loud sigh. “Heck yeah! Being it on. Get up on this and do your thang. I would love to be pain free.” He didn’t care if it was a strange nether spirit that was touching him. He wanted this pain to go away.

 

Derek chuckled, a real honest laugh, for the first time in over a hundred years. “The uncomfortable part is that I need to touch the flesh that is wounded. It is your thigh right? You could arrange the blankets so…” He stopped as Stiles quickly dropped his pajama pants, exposing his black and grey striped boxer briefs. Derek took a deep breath. Seeing that his mate had long, leanly muscled legs and was very well-endowed was a little much for right now. He couldn’t give into those thoughts yet. He hoped it was ‘yet’. It would be heart breaking if he never got to touch that lovely, porcelain flesh. Concentrate! he reminded himself sharply. Now was not the time to drool over his mate. He still needed to prove himself. He saw the swollen stab would on his thigh that was neatly stitched closed and all thoughts except healing and revenge left his mind.

 

Stiles then gingerly removed his t-shirt, exposing darkly bruised ribs. Derek cringed in sympathy. It may have been two hundred years since he had felt pain, but he had experienced broken ribs and he knew it hurt like crazy. It was too bad Stiles couldn’t heal as fast as he used to be able to.

 

Moving closer, but trying not to crowd the injured man, Derek gently touched Stiles’ thigh and for an instant, it burned like crazy and Stiles’ squawked in protest.

 

“I’m sorry, Genim, it is a necessary part of the healing. One more time,” he said and gently cupped the side of Stiles’ ribcage. Which, of course, garnered another yelp mixed with a squeak. “All done,” Derek said and took his hand back. He wanted to smooth his hand down that soft skin and cup Genim’s lean hip, but he didn’t. Building trust took restraint, he had to keep that in mind.

 

“Thank you so much,” Stiles said, taking his first deep breath since he’d been kicked in the ribs. It felt wonderful to feel his chest expand without pain making him double over. “You didn’t have to do that, but again, thank you.” He pulled his pants back up and sat down with his shirt in his lap.

 

“You are mine and I will take care of you. Since we are now bonded through the oath, you can call on me simply by saying my name three times in a row either mentally or out loud. It would be akin to knocking on the door. It would let me know you need to speak with me,” Derek said.

 

“Would that be when you show up, like you mentioned earlier?”

 

Derek nodded. “Yes. I have the ability to create a, I guess you could call it a force field that would allow us to talk to one another outside of time and space. If you need me to be there in the flesh, I can then’ show up’,” he said, using air quotes. “And be of assistance. Otherwise, I’ll just leave and you’ll still be there in the situation without having missed a thing. Does any of that make sense?” Derek knew it was a lot but hoped Stiles could be open enough to accept it. He felt his mate mentally jump with excitement. It was strong, as usually excitement wouldn’t cross the bond. He gazed at him quizzically.

 

Stiles grinned. “Are you kidding me? Talking outside of time and space? You can be sure I’ll be trying this out, just to see it happen. How awesome. This is Dr. Who kinda shit! Awesome!” Stiles bounced a little, his eyes sparkling.

 

Smiling in return, Derek couldn’t help but be charmed by his mate. It was a good close to their first evening together. “I have taken up enough of your time now. Be safe, Genim, I will see you soon,” Derek said, giving him a nod. Stiles returned it and with a puff of black shadow, he disappeared.

 

Stiles laid down, feeling his side, unable to feel anything out of place and took a deep breath, enjoying the freedom of the movement. He then slipped his pants down and ran his fingers around where the stab would had been. The skin was clear of any scar or any remnants of the stitches or wound. There was no remaining pain or tenderness at all.

 

He was amazed. He’d been ready to hate Derek, to hate his time with him. But Derek had done everything to set him at ease, to comfort him. So far? Derek was awesome.

 

He, Stiles Stilinski, was the mate of a mysterious, yet seemingly kind and talented, but still as yet unknown for the most part, spiritual entity. He found himself looking forward to seeing him again.

 

“Oh fuck.”

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

Derek knew he’d left his mate rather abruptly, but he knew he had to get away from the tantalizing and tempting human. He was already feeling too much. It was too soon for this, he knew it was, but the more he learned about Genim, the more he concluded that he was the mate the old Emissary had told him to look for.  This meant not only his happiness, but also freedom and his wolf. Oh goddess, how he missed his wolf.

 

Two hundred three years, eight months, twenty nine days, forty two minutes and six seconds ago, he had been turned from a gullible young werewolf shifter into an underworld demi god. Not quite of hell, it was called the Shadow Realm, but close enough to make him fucking miserable.

 

Derek Hale had met fellow demi god, Katriona, when he was still mortal. Kate, as she liked to be called, liked to play with humans and had been obsessed with his wolf side. He never knew what she was until it was too late. After trying to talk him into marrying her, he admitted he didn’t love her and had plans of finding a mate among a neighboring pack once he became Alpha. She really didn’t like that and decided on revenge. She didn’t see it as revenge, of course, she was doing him a ‘favor’.

 

Having his wolf ripped away from him as she turned him into a demi god had felt like every piece of skin on his body had been peeled off in a bath of bleach and alcohol.

 

When he’d woken up in his new form, she had gleefully told him that he was like her now. He would live forever with her and they would work together to grant the wishes of innocent people in order to steal their souls. Horrified, he’d merely stared at her. She was waiting impatiently for him to thank her for giving him eternal life. When he started raging at her, yelling and screaming his anger and grief, she’d left him. He was left alone, able to see his family, but unseen by them. He was on a different plane of existence and could only watch as they went about their lives. For half a century, he was stuck in hell. Watching his family search for him, seeing them grieve as they gave up hope, watching the pack crumble and fall apart when his mother, Talia, died and Peter took over as Alpha, ruining the pack in his pursuit of power.

 

One by one, his family members died and he mourned for them, until the last of the beloved Hale line passed away, leaving no heirs behind. Peter had seen to that. Derek cried, he screamed, he howled his grief, but there was nothing he could do. Then Kate returned, once again expecting him to be grateful for her company, grateful that he wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. See, she said, this is what my life was like before you. Now he knew the agony of being alone, wasn’t he glad she came back for him? He was no longer stupid or gullible and pretended that he felt everything she wanted him to. She released him from the unseen plane and taught him how to navigate the Shadow Realm and the other numerous realms he now had access to as well as the different planes of human existence. (Ghosts were real, by the way.) The lessons ranged from how to grant wishes and take souls to how, though they could live forever, they could die. He faked every emotion, every feeling, and when she urged him into bed, he hated her more with every passing second.

 

Once he was sure he knew all he needed to know, he took the very lessons she taught him and killed her. It took a solid two years of planning and some damn good acting skills, but he did it. He turned her power back on her and killed her. The smile on his face as he watched the disbelief and betrayal cross her face were the first signs of actual joy he’d shown in almost a century.

 

Being free from her was a weight off all on its own. Next came his determination to get his life back somehow. Kate had been a lazy demi god and taught Derek all the ways to get around making deals and taking souls. Instead, he granted wishes and got favors back in return. Through those favors, he found an Emissary that would talk to him and he asked if he could ever become mortal again, if he could feel his wolf once more inside him. The Emissary was shocked until Derek told his story, how he’d been unwilling, how he just wanted to have his wolf back and then live a life and die an old man.

 

It took Derek and the Emissary several years, but they finally found it. His salvation was a person. But the person had to fill a list of items. First, they had to be a human virgin who had a Spark. They had to agree to belong to Derek of their own free will, a sort of magical proxy who would help him get his wolf. He couldn’t make them, but he could give them something in exchange, they discovered. The person had to fall in love with Derek with no magical influence or interference, the same went for Derek. This was to mimic the close love and relationship the human had with his wolf. The person also had to travel to an active Nemeton to gain initial contact. In other words, Derek couldn’t find the person, the person had to find him, which was a very frustrating prospect. The person had to come to him with a request before he could start the process of wooing them. There were other small things like not being able to spill the entire story until Derek was a werewolf again. And the fact that they couldn't consummate their relationship until Derek was returned to his werewolf self so the person could be made aware of the entire situation and give an informed consent.

 

The first time he thought he found his person was only a few years after he and the Emissary had found the answer. She was a sweet, young girl named Paige. She had come to the Nemeton to ask for healing for her father. Derek said he would grant her wish when he sensed her Spark. When he told he the price was to belong to him, she’d turned him down. She was very religious and asking for help was bad enough. She could not belong to a demon. He tried to convince her, but in order to get his wolf back, he couldn’t influence her. He felt sympathy for her and in the end, he healed her father. She was very grateful and returned to the Nemeton many times over the span of her life so they could talk. Paige was the first one to help him get back into contact with his human emotions.  He’d begun to harden himself when he was still with Kate, it was easier not to feel. With Paige, he was able to laugh and talk and become invested in human feelings again. He missed her when she passed on and continued to bless her family with help for several generations.

 

There was a long wait until a new candidate came to him. Jennifer came to the Nemeton asking for revenge for being abandoned by her pack. She was a powerful Spark but wanted more power. Derek had been intrigued immediately because she had belonged to a wolf pack. She wasn’t strong enough to be an Emissary, but she knew how to summon Derek. There should have been some warning when she not only agreed to belong to him, but told him she really wanted him. When he performed the spell to open her emotions, he was immediately overwhelmed by the power of her hate and determination to steal his power in order to use it against her old pack. He’d cut off the spell and rejected her. In the end, he’d had to kill her when he saw her start killing off innocent people trying to build up more power.

 

Finally, there was Braeden, only fifty or so years ago, who also met most of the qualifications, except the virginity aspect. He had granted her wish anyway as he enjoyed her spunky attitude and they, like he and Paige, had remained friends until she passed on as a sassy old woman. It was Braeden who brought him to Beacon Hills just before her death. He had loved the area from the start and came back as often as he could. He had been visiting her grave when he’d felt the tug from the Nemeton which turned out to be Genim.

 

Ah, Genim. A beautiful young man inside and out, who only wanted the best for his father and friends. His wishes had been so small compared to those he’d received over the course of his time as a demi god. It was almost as if he could see the end of this hell and the beginning of a new life with Stiles. One where he was a wolf again, one where he lived with his mate who loved him freely, one where he could look forward to his death, knowing he and his mate would continue on into the next life together.

 

He couldn’t wait.

 

It felt freeing to take human form again, as it had been almost a year since the last time. He liked to take this shape and just be around people, to remember his humanity and what it felt like to have emotions. There were a few times where he’d gotten a place to live, worked a job, paid some bills. He would go grocery shopping with a smile on his face, though he didn’t need to eat. It was a very human thing to do. He would just turn around and give the food to the local food banks who seemed to appreciate it more than he did.

 

He also liked keeping up on human technology and had even gone to college a couple times to learn the most up to date information on technology and science. One time, he’d stayed human for four years and gotten himself a bachelor’s degree in fine arts. He had also taken several forensics classes that taught him things like body language and how to tell if someone was lying to him. He didn’t want another experience like he’d had with Kate and Jennifer. Scheming bitches.

 

Knowing he would be human one day, he kept any money he earned in several different bank accounts, and yes, even buried some in a hold in the ground. It was more a vault, but still, it made him chuckle. All this was done so he could take care of his mate when the time came. Now, he was extremely happy to know he could support Genim in any way he wanted since he was a double digit millionaire. What? He did some favors for some stock brokers and made some really good decisions. If Genim couldn’t afford his college tuition, then Derek would happily and proudly pay for it. Anything his mate wanted would be his.

 

Another human activity that he had enjoyed over the years was sex. Yes, when he found his mate, he couldn’t take them until after he returned to his werewolf form, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have sex at all. Many times through the years, he would take on his human skin and find a compatible partner to while away the hours with. He had enjoyed erasing the memories of Kate against his skin and it no longer bothered him to have a female over him while they had sex.

 

It had surprised him how much he enjoyed the male form. He’d been raised around a mostly heterosexual pack since male partners couldn’t produce young. Back then it had all been about procreating. Even those who strictly preferred one gender, for instance a man who only loved men, they would at least find someone who they were able to be with physically in order to have a cub. Then they would co-parent as a three or foursome. Most homosexuals found a female couple to have children with or vice versa. It solved everyone’s problems without anyone having to be unhappy.

 

Derek had never found males attractive until after Kate. For many years after her, he would only be with men. He found their strong forms beautiful. There was no need for any sort of gentleness and he found he enjoyed a rough romp with a good looking fellow. After he’d healed somewhat from what Kate had done to him, he’d switched between men and women, depending on his mood. He had never lacked for a partner and thankfully, since the rise of disease, as a demi god he was immune to them.

 

Now he was very much looking forward to being intimate with Genim when the time came. He could imagine his own tan skin against the pale perfection of Genim’s. Those moles drove him crazy and he couldn’t wait for the time he could trace the path between all of them with his tongue. Picturing him in those tiny boxer briefs was mouthwatering. Okay, enough!

 

Maybe it was time to get another house, a place where Genim could come when he wanted to, he and all his friends. Yes, he decided, it was time to make his latest introduction back into the human world and prepare for his mate. But first, a little magic was called for on behalf of his new mate and his friends…


	3. The Shit Hits the Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wishes come true and Derek addresses the bullying issue...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for gross content in the final paragraphs of the chapter....

After drifting off and sleeping restlessly for about an hour, Stiles got up and showered and dressed for the day. Wandering downstairs, he stopped as he smelled something delicious and familiar. Hurrying into the kitchen, he saw his father in uniform standing over the stove. He was flipping pancakes from a pan onto a plate. There were also eggs and home fries sitting nearby. His father couldn’t cook much, but a diner breakfast? He killed it.

Knowing his eyes were as wide as the pancakes, Stiles cleared his throat nervously. Was this his wish coming true? Please let it be.

“Hey Dad,” he said hesitantly.

“Son, good, you’re awake and in time to eat. I know we don’t get to eat together much and I want to change that. So I figured I’d start going into the station an hour late when I can, so we can have breakfast together. I think it shocked Tara, but it’s good to keep the deputies on their toes. Sit down, let’s eat so you can be on time to school,” his dad said, not noticing the shock on Stiles’ face, nor the tears shimmering in his eyes.

Stiles blinked quickly and scrubbed at his face with his hoodie sleeve before quickly taking his seat. To his pleased shock, they ate breakfast together for the first time in five years. Sure they’d passed by each other eating or grabbed something at the same time, but they hadn’t sat down together at the table. Now, as they ate, they talked about a little of everything, catching each other up on their lives. Stiles didn’t bother mentioning his previous evening. It wasn’t a big deal. So what if he’d made a deal with a (potentially dark) spirit to get benefits for him and his friends and ended up as the spirit’s mate. No big deal.

In that moment, it really was no big deal. What was bigger was seeing his dad laugh as he cracked a joke about something Scott and Isaac had done. Or when his dad shared about a particularly stressful missing child case he’d recently helped with.

Suddenly, any price he had to pay, anything he had to do, was well worth it. He had to pinch himself several times to keep from crying. It was almost too much to take, the comfort and joy he got from just this short amount of time with his father.

As they parted ways at the door, his father ruffled his hair as he’d done all of Stiles’ life up until that fateful day, and wished him a good day at school. That small gesture of affection was more than he could have hoped for. Stiles knew he was grinning like a dork, but it felt like the biggest gift in the world. He had his father back.

Several times on the way to school, he had to mop up a stray tear that fell as he continued smiling. His dad loved him again. He didn’t even care if it was because of magic. He’d make his father love him for real. Wait… were his father’s reactions all based on magic? Did he really hate Stiles deep down? He pulled the Jeep over and stared into the distance. Was this better? His heart ached at the thought that he was simply manipulating his father.

_Genim, may I speak to you?_

Stiles heard the words and jumped in shock. Okay, he would need to adjust to that shock. “Yes?”

_I’m sorry for the abrupt entrance, so to speak. I can send a pulse along our connection next time, like knocking on the door. It’ll feel like this._

Stiles felt a gentle nudge against the new bond line that lived near his Spark. “Okay, that’s much better. Um, what did you need?”

_I could feel your distress and peeked to see what it was about. Genim, your renewed relationship with your father isn’t a false magical effect. I simply eased his grief for his mate and it allowed him to realize how much he missed you. It was his grief all this time, not any kind of anger toward you. I swear this to you._

Stiles thought about that. It made sense, his dad had never shown any outright anger at Stiles. “You’re sure?”

_I am absolutely sure. Some things are done by magic, but it would actually take more magical effort to manipulate a situation or fabricate emotions,  than just get the obstacles out of the way._

That made sense. “That makes sense. Thank you for telling me. I feel better.”

Stiles could almost feel the pleased smile coming through Derek’s words.

_I am glad and I’m so very happy you and your father are reconnecting. While I have you here, I have a plan for the bullying at the school. Look for me and know that I have it all under control. Can I have a small piece of your trust?”_

Stiles smiled, knowing it would be a good plan. Derek was a dark demi god, there would be plenty of payback. “Absolutely,” he said, his surety bleeding through the bond lines.

_Excellent. Look for me when the time comes. Have a good day today, Genim. I am here if you need me otherwise._

“Will do. Thank you, Derek.”

_My pleasure, Genim._

With that, Derek was gone, the bond clear again. Stiles sat there and then allowed his previous grin to come back. He could really be happy again. Yep, it was going to be a good day. After the reign of Jackson coming to an end and the renewed relationship with his dad, it would probably be the best day he’d had in a decade. Maybe he’d cook his dad a big fat steak with all the fixings tonight for dinner.

At school, Stiles headed to the picnic table by the school sign where he’d been meeting his friends for the past year. It was safer for them to walk into the school as a group. Safety in numbers was a real thing they had found.

Scott and Isaac arrived first, bounding toward Stiles with huge grins on their faces. The smile was familiar as he still felt it on his own face.

“I don’t need my inhaler anymore!” Scott shouted as soon as he was close enough to be heard.

“What?” Stiles was amazed. That inhaler had been a closer friend than Stiles throughout Scott’s life.

“I went for my morning run and I didn’t have to use it once. I even started running faster and like jumping off of things and not once did I need my inhaler. It was amazing,” Scott’s face was lit up with joy.

“Man, that is freaking awesome!” Stiles stood and gave Scott a high five and a manly back-slapping hug.

“I got some kind of letter from the state about my father. It was already in the mailbox when I checked it on the way home last night. I have to call some official guy at noon. Do you think it has to do with the… well, yesterday?” Isaac asked, his eyes hopeful.

Stiles nodded. “I would think so, it appears we’re all starting to get what we asked for,” he said, making sure he talked quiet enough to keep it between them. “I, uh, had breakfast with my dad. Also, check it out,” he said, raising his shirt and plaid over shirt so they could see his bruise free skin.

“Holy shit, Stiles, that was all black and blue yesterday,” Isaac leaned over for a better look.

“Not to mention the creepy bulge from the broken rib,” Scott whispered, a grin accenting his crooked jaw. “And breakfast with your dad? That’s awesome. It’s been, like, years, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah. I think the last time was the day Mom passed,” Stiles said, beaming with joy.

Suddenly, all of their phones beeped with an incoming text.

_Have an appointment at 9 with family services! Can you believe it?! Crossing all my crossables that my wish comes true! Will be to school when I’m done. Save your notes for me! – Malia_

“You guys, I can’t believe this is happening. Everything is coming to pass,” Isaac said. “I keep waiting for the bad news.”

“Me too, but I’m staying hopeful,” Scott said. “Hey, here comes Lydia and Allison.”

The two girls walked up to them, beaming smiles on their faces.

“Go ahead,” Allison said to Lydia, her dimples showing deeply as she smiled.

“No, you first,” Lydia responded with a happy flick of her hair.

“Just tell us!” Stiles insisted with a grin.

“I got into Oxford!” Lydia cried, throwing herself into Stiles’ arms. “The envelope was sitting there on the kitchen counter when I got home. I keep wondering how it got there and if Mom saw it just appear, but I don’t care! I’m going to England!”

They cheered for her, sharing in her joy. Oxford had been her dream since shed first learned of the school. They would all miss her like crazy, but like all their dreams, they would support her unconditionally.

“My grandfather is in prison,” Allison said with a wicked twinkle in her Disney princess eyes. “I haven’t heard all the details, but my dad heard from Gerard’s lawyer that they weren’t going to be able to fight it. It looks like life behind bars for the old man.”

They gave more applause and gave a quick group hug. They knew she’d been afraid of how he might try to manipulate her as he’d done to other family members. Now she was free. It was a damn good day.

Suddenly Isaac gave a loud wolf whistle. “Holy shit, guys, look!”

Coming toward them was a graceful girl, dressed in familiar, funky clothes, but managing to look elegant at the same time. Her hair, instead of yanked back into a ponytail, flowed behind her in shiny waves. Her gorgeous brown eyes were tipped with a touch of eyeliner, her cheeks had a subtle blush. She looked exotic and wild. She was a total knockout and Stiles knew all of her wishes had come true as well. He just hoped she was still their Kira and wouldn’t be tempted away by the ‘beautiful people’ in school.

“Kira!” Lydia and Allison nearly bowled the girl over as they rushed to her, commenting on her makeup and how wonderful she looked.

A goofy grin broke across her face and Stiles realized she hadn’t changed at her core. Their Kira was still in there. “I haven’t tripped once, guys!”

The girls joined the guys and they all exchanged their news again and there was more than one tear shed and more than one hug given as they celebrated. The immense relief they shared and the joy they were experiencing for once overwhelmed them.

It turned out Kira’s mother had gotten a sudden (yeah, sudden) job in Japan and decided Kira would be staying behind in Beacon Hills while she and Kira’s father went to Japan. She would be in college by the time they got back, so there was no more threat of her being taken away from her friends or forced into a career she didn’t want. She’d also been asked out twice already and she said it felt wonderful, though she’d turned them both down. She finally felt beautiful, she said, and teared up when her friends told her they’d always seen her this way. The way she felt about herself was just finally catching up.

Stiles didn’t know how the situation with the bullies would be addressed, so he didn’t tell his friends what Derek had said and instead they took the normal precautions they always did. They never went anywhere alone and the guys tried to make sure the girls were walked to and from their classes. It was better to be safe than sorry, they figured. It was a perfect morning.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

Derek watched the group of friends from the Shadow Realm and his confidence continued to grow. This group of near adults truly loved each other and took care of each other. He watched as they followed a clearly well-placed plan to make sure the girls got to class safely. The guys then separated and went their own ways. It was when Genim was walking into his classroom, that he saw a hint of what the group went through on a near daily basis.

Moving to his desk, Genim’s entire body tensed and Derek watched closely as a well-dressed teen, one he quickly discerned as Jackson Whittemore, stuck out a foot when his mate wasn’t looking. Genim tumbled to the floor where another teen kicked him sharply in the back. Derek admired his mate’s strength as he simply gritted his teeth, barely letting out a grunt. Looking toward the teacher showed a mean glint in the older man’s eyes behind his tiny glasses, a small smirk on his face before he called the class to order. He seemed to take joy in telling Stiles to take his seat before he got detention for disrupting the class.

Following the friends throughout their morning classes, he saw more of the same. Though Kira was more graceful then she’d ever been, she was pushed several times, causing her to stumble. Allison was mocked when people talked about her grandfather being in prison. Isaac was nearly shut into a locker before Scott managed to get there quick enough to prevent it.

Derek was determined to make some changes. A little violence with a good dose of humiliation should do the trick. It took all he had to not just turn all the little assholes to ash where they stood.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

The glow of the early morning had definitely rubbed off by the time the first three classes were done. Stiles could tell by the looks on everyone’s faces that he wasn’t the only one to have a shitty morning. He was looking forward to lunch so they could all encourage one another and lift each other up to get through the last of the classes. He purposely waited to go to his locker until there were only a few minutes until the next class started. Jackson seemed to know his friends were in another building during this time and it was an opportune time to get at Stiles without any disruption.

His timing was obviously off as he was almost immediately slammed into the locker, his nose smashing against the cold metal. The burn and sharp pain instantly made his eyes sting and he fought against them watering so it wouldn’t look like he was crying.

Before he could step back, a body was thrown into the locker next to him and he jerked back, realizing it was Jackson. Even more shocking, he discovered it was Coach Finstock who had done the throwing. The normally complacent coach had his forearm against Jackson’s throat.

“You’re done bullying Stilinski and his friends, got it?” Coach looked over and Stiles gaped at the sight of Derek’s light green eyes glowing from the coach’s face. Tiny wisps of black smoke left Coach’s mouth and his eyes making him frightening to behold.

It was then Stiles realized the Coach wasn’t alone. Derek was handling the situation just like he’d told Stiles he would. Grinning, Stiles leaned against the locker to watch, the pain in his nose no longer bothering him.

Jackson’s face was frozen in shock and fear as those wisps of smoke hit him in the face. “Uh yeah, Coach, got it,” his usually confident voice trembled at his first look at the supernatural.

“Your reign of terror has ended. Change direction before I change it for you,” Coach’s voice sounded much more like Derek’s had when they’d first met him at the Nemeton, rumbling and deep, otherworldly. Releasing Jackson, Derek’s essence left the coach, leaving him looking his normal, confused looking self. “Huh, I didn’t think I had it in me,” he said, giving Stiles a lopsided smile.

Stiles laughed at the unintended pun. “Thanks Coach.”

Meanwhile, Jackson had recovered enough to bluster, “I’m telling my father you threatened me.”

Coach looked unsure so Stiles stepped in. “I didn’t hear any threats. And I’m sure even your father would agree that Coach doesn’t tend to go around threatening anyone but Greenberg.”

“Greenberg deserves it, the little butt kisser. And I’ll be letting your folks know about this anyway, Whittemore, so watch it,” Coach said, obviously holding onto his newfound strength.

“Whatever,” Jackson said and walked off.

Stiles could see he was still shaken and knew Derek had made an effect. It might not last, but it was a start. And it was freakin’ hilarious.

The hallway suddenly froze, the colors going almost grayscale. Derek appeared in front of him, a grin on his too handsome face.

“That was pretty awesome,” Stiles said, smiling at him then giving a grimace at the pain in his face as it awakened.

“Thank you. May I?” Derek asked, holding his hand near Stiles face.

“Sure thing. Do it up,” Stiles invited, jutting his chin forward. Derek’s touch on his cheek was warm, gentle, and felt like a massage of all the good things. “Mmmmmm…” Stiles couldn’t help his happy noises.

“I’m healing the pain, but leaving the forming bruise. It will help our cause, but you won’t feel it,” Derek said softly, trying to keep his body from reacting to the noises his mate was making. Between the noises and those dark lashes resting against his cheeks as he enjoyed the sensations, his pants were getting tighter and he couldn’t afford to freak his mate out. It was too early so he beat his body into submission by concentrating on the bruise his mate had acquired and his plans for taking care of Whittemore and friends. “By the way, this is what it will look like when we speak outside of time.”

Stiles’ whiskey eyes opened, pupils dilated. He blinked several times before looking around them as Derek took his hand back. “Okay, this is the most awesome of awesome things to ever awesome! Seriously. We can do this every time. Could I potentially fuck with people this way?” Stiles’ devious mind couldn’t help all the thoughts of atomic wedgies and sudden blockades that would make all sorts of trouble for people he disliked.

Derek chuckled. “You could, though I caution you to remember your lessons on karma.”

Stiles groaned. “Damn karma. Okay, but it’s still amazing. How do we go back to normal?”

“It’ll just restart, so brace yourself, the first few times can be jarring. Also, it’s going to take a few tries to get across to Jackson, are you prepared for that?”

Derek gave up on trying to control his body when Genim’s gorgeous eyes narrowed and an evil smirk tilted the side of his generous mouth. “Bring it on,” he said, his voice much deeper than normal.

It took the demi god all he had to not groan at the sound of that gravelly voice. It inspired his darker side so he returned the smirk. “Excellent. Hold on, normal time in three, two, one….”

With what sounded like a snap, Stiles was suddenly back in a fully colored, moving hallway and heard the warning bell telling him was going to be late. His stomach had shifted with the change in dimension and he felt a little nauseous, but noticed no other negative effects. Quickly grabbing his books, he ran off to his next class, a twisted smile on his face. He looked forward to the rest of the day and even to more abuse from the bullies. He knew Derek had his back and it was a good feeling.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

Derek felt it, the moment Stiles began to trust in him and he let himself surrender to the overwhelming human emotions flooding through him. Gratitude, determination, and that elusive feeling he hadn’t felt since the death of the last of his family a century and a half ago. The birth of love.

He wouldn’t let his mate down.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

Stiles could tell by everyone’s expression, the morning had been rough for them all. At least they were together now and could encourage one another. They didn’t even bother to go to the cafeteria. It was the sight of too many ‘accident’s’ and the place where Allison was usually hit the hardest with people talking about her and making fun of her mother.

Stiles waved off their concern for his swollen nose and the still growing black eyes.

They quietly discussed Malia’s new opportunity to find a foster family of her choice. People who would choose to be her guardians until she was ready to go to college. She was excited to go to the office after school and asked the girls of the group to go with her and help her.

Stiles did what he did best and made a fool of himself so his friends would laugh and didn’t miss the grateful affection on Lydia’s face. The group began laughing and teasing one another and they were able to spend some much needed time being their lighthearted selves.

Once they were all relaxed, Stiles felt it was time to let them in on the day’s big secret.

“The bullying will be ending today,” he told his friends. “Our friend has things under control.”

All of their faces lit up, a chorus of “Really?” going around. He told them about what happened with Coach and Jackson and they fell over themselves laughing and shared amazed looks.

“Things are really going to change for the better, aren’t they?” Allison asked, looking overwhelmed.

“Really is,” Stiles said and gave her a hug.

From then on, the group had hope in their eyes, a lightness to their step they didn’t have earlier and a devious light in their eyes. None of them could wait until Jackson was taken down for good.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

Stiles knew that it would take a little more pain on his part to get to the breaking point, so he was half expecting someone to already be in the restroom when he got there before the last class of the day. He’d held out as long as he could, but a full bladder waited for no man. Luckily, the room was empty and he was able to do his business and wash his hands before he was accosted. This time, Jackson had his lackey’s with him. Theo and Matt grabbed his shoulders and shoved him against the hand dryer. Stiles grunted at the pain in his back, knowing this was going to get really bad before it got better.

“Had a great time laughing earlier, huh Stilinksi? Got Coach to help you? I can get that loser fired any day of the week, so don’t think you’re winning,” Jackson sneered.

Stiles laughed. “You weren’t paying attention very well, were you? Did you see the look in Coach’s eye?” he said, putting emphasis into his words so Jackson would get the hint that Stiles had seen what he had.

For a moment, Jackson’s face paled as he seemed to remember before he buried it and then buried his fist into Stiles’ stomach. “You need to learn to watch your mouth, Stilinski.”

The door slammed open and Stiles groaned when none other than Mr. Harris walked in. Jackson just laughed along with his cohorts and slammed another fist into Stile’s side, this time into a rib. Harris sneered and grinned at Stiles’ grunt of pain and stood there with his arms crossed.

“See, everyone wants you to learn a lesson,” Jackson said with another punch to his aching side.

“You missed a spot,” Harris said and stepped forward to slap Stiles’ across the face, somehow the action more humiliating than getting his ass kicked.

 The next minute was spent in an agony of punches from all three of the bullies, Theo and Matt eager to take their turns. They were usually the bouncers so they liked to let loose when Jackson let them.

Stiles had his eyes closed but something nudged his Spark so he opened his eyes to see furious light green eyes and wisps of smoke emanating from Harris and a loose smile formed on his pain-filled face.

“What are you smiling at? Haven’t had enough?” Jackson asked, enjoying the return of his power. He’d felt off all day since Coach this morning and needed this to get back where he belonged.

He barely got the words out before Harris was slamming him up against the wall. A squeak, a literal squeak, of fear left Jackson’s throat when he looked into those green eyes, not the dark, colorless eyes Harris usually had. These eyes looked just like Coach’s had earlier and his stomach twisted with sudden fear. What the fuck was that smoke? Where was it coming from? And why did it look like Harris was suddenly possessed? And why could Jackson suddenly see his own death in those eyes. Frozen in fear, he just stared, unable to move.

Harris released him and turned, grabbing Matt and Theo by their necks. With a loud thunk, he smashed their heads together, both of them crying out and falling to the floor, their hands grasping at their throbbing heads.

Turning back to Jackson, he stepped up close to him, black wisps getting breathed into Jackson’s face.

Jackson felt nauseous breathing in that smoke, it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be…

“You don’t listen very well do you, boy? I told you to change your direction and you didn’t listen,” Harris gave him a dark grin. Were his teeth sharp? Getting longer? What the fuck? “Now I’m gonna have to change your direction for you.”

“No, you r..really don’t have to, Mr. Harris,” Jackson whimpered.

Mr. Harris got really close to his face. “You really think I’m Mr. Harris? Look into my eyes, Jackson. Look carefully.”

Unable to resist, Jackson stared into those otherworldly light green eyes and watched as his pupils dilated, taking over all the color until all he saw was endless black. _See your future,_ was whispered inside his mind and he looked. He saw hell.

Stiles couldn’t hear what was being said, but the unholy scream that left Jackson’s throat made chill bumps break out across his body.

Harris stepped back and stumbled a bit before looking around, eyes wide and back to their non-descript color. “What the fuck? Uh.. get, get to class all of you,” he muttered before leaving the restroom, Matt and Theo close behind, still holding their aching heads.

Jackson stood there, face pale and sweaty. He looked around himself, confused, and thought he saw Stilinski’s eyes glow. A whine broke out of his throat and he ran from the room, smacking himself with the door in his rush before getting free and rushing out.

Stiles’ laughed, before coughing, knowing something in his chest was hurt, his breathing disrupted. His body was screaming and he needed help. “Derek, Derek, Derek,” he whispered as he’d been instructed to, reaching for Derek along the bond lines.

“I’m here, Genim,” Derek said instantly, the room gray as they went outside of time again.

“Help,” Stiles whimpered.

“Hold your breath, I’m going to do this quick and it might hurt at first,” Derek said, putting one hand over his mate’s heart and the other grasping his shoulder to steady him. Stiles had been so brave and didn’t deserve this pain. He put his entire power behind healing his mate and pushed.

Stiles grunted with the force of the quick healing and cried out as a flash of fire seemed to encompass his entire body. Just as quickly as it came, it left, taking the pain with it.

“Better?” Derek asked quietly, leaving his hands in place just in case, but he was sure he got all of it.

“Much, thanks,” Stiles said, feeling suddenly exhausted.

“You are welcome and I’m sorry it went on so long. Harris fought me, it was harder to take over than it was with the coach. Like last time, I’m leaving the bruises and you’ll see why later. I must go now, there is much to take care of before our big finale. There will be a school wide assembly that will disrupt your next class. I don’t want to give away the big ending, but I suggest you and your friends sit near the door.”

Stiles grinned. This was going to be good, he just knew it.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

As Derek had said, an assembly was announced partway through the last class of the day and they made their way to the gym. Stiles sent out a quick text instructing his friends to find him by the east doors, mentioning their friend had suggested it. They knew to take it seriously and all quickly congregated in the bottom rows near the big double doors. Stiles quickly told them what happened in the restroom and they all had a respectful and impressed look on their faces learning about the lengths Derek was going to.

“Any idea what this assembly is for?” Isaac asked, sitting between Allison and Scott behind Stiles, Lydia, Malia and Kira on the bottom row of the bleachers.

“All I know is our friend said it is the finale. I’m pretty excited to see what happens,” Stiles said, rubbing his hands together.

“Oh damn, Jackson, what the hell died in your ass?!” the loud voice of Theo Raeken carried through the gym and attracted the attention of everyone, including Stiles and his friends. They were across the gym floor from the friends and all watched to see what was happening.

“Fuck off Raeken, my gut hurts like hell. Like you’ve never ripped one,” Jackson Whittemore replied, rubbing his stomach as they all took seats on the bleachers.

The Jackson contingent was made up of Jackson, Theo, Matt Daehler, their three girlfriends and several other jocks from the lacrosse team. They were all in their shorts and jersey’s because they had a game that afternoon. Scott, Stiles and Isaac had all been on the team at one point, but were picked on so much the coach had told them they’d be better off finding a different sport because he worried about their safety. Coach was the one and only teacher who liked the outcasts and looked out for them as much as he could.

Jackson let out a groan and kinda leaned over, arms wrapped around his middle. His girlfriend, Heather, rubbed his back, a bored look on her face.

A side note about Heather, Stiles had always wondered what happened to her. She used to be his friend. They had known each other since they were in diapers. He knew she would have fit in with his group of friends and would have been welcome. Then one day she mentioned that Jackson was asking after her. She told Stiles she wasn’t interested in him, quite the opposite actually, she thought he was a chauvinistic pig, rightly so. Shocking everyone, out of the blue, she was suddenly dating him and shot through the teen popularity ranks up to top bitch. Jackson’s top bitch. They were always together. She never spoke to Stiles again, though sometimes he swore he caught a longing look from her. He wondered if she ever missed their friendship like he did.

 The principal and teachers were all congregated on the floor of the gym. Stiles was shocked to see his father also standing there. They exchanged nods and smiles before his father turned to talk to the principal. Large projector screens were set up at either end of the gym. Walking up to a microphone, the principal called them to attention. Stiles was watching him and there it was, the familiar black wisps were swirling around the principal’s face. Grinning, he pointed it out to his friends in a whisper.

“Your attention please. Some horrible things have been brought to my attention and the consequences are going to be severe. Instead of telling you all, I am going to show you.” With that the principal stepped back and the lights dimmed.

Right before the room went dark, Stiles swore the principal turned and winked at him.

There on the giant projector screens was Stiles being thrown into the lockers, the audience in the gym gasping at the sight of Stiles’ face meeting the hard metal. Some chuckles were heard before a loud voice yelled “Silence!” in Derek’s now familiar dark voice.

The video flicked through various people being bullied, Kira being tripped, a group of girls laughing at Allison, Lydia’s skirt being flipped up (it was blurred out), other students being hit, wedgied, locked in lockers. Faster and faster the scenes showed abuse upon abuse. All at the hands of Jackson and his croney’s. Finally, the camera switched and there was Stiles being thrown into the hand dryer in the bathroom. Someone had been standing in the second stall and filmed the whole thing. Including Harris walking in and watching with glee before hauling off and slapping Stiles across the face.

Gasps were heard throughout the room, outrage from the teachers.

The video cut off with Harris slapping Stiles and the lights came on. The principal took the mic once more and looked exceedingly pissed.

“Mr. Harris has already been fired. I will also be looking into getting his teacher’s license revoked. This is completely unacceptable actions in this school. The bullying is going to stop. Now. Listen closely as I am only going to say this once. There will be no warnings. If you are caught or accused and found guilty of bullying, you will be expelled. No detention, no suspensions, no second chances. You will be expelled. Your parents will be brought in and you will have to explain why you are having to move your entire family because of your actions. Why you ask? The closest school is in the next district. If you don’t live in that district, you don’t go to that school. So you have to move into the district. Your bullying will be costing your family thousands of dollars. Now. Jackson Whittemore, Theodore Raeken, Matthew Daehler, please step forward.”

Looking exceedingly worried, Jackson still holding his stomach, the three got up and took a few hesitant steps forward. Sheriff Stilinski stalked toward them looking furious. Jackson paled even more if possible, realizing the Sheriff had just watched him beat his son up.

“You may not have realized it because you weren’t thinking at all,” the principal continued. “But you three are all eighteen. Most of the kids in those videos are minors. You just committed aggravated assault on a minor. Congratulations, you are all under arrest. Sheriff?”

Without any prompting, the majority of the gym stood up and began clapping. The applause echoed through the gym and then the cheers broke out. Stiles and his friends hugged each other and cheered, the girls jumping up and down. It was over. The reign of Jackson Whittemore and Friends was over.

The principal smiled then waved his hands to get everyone to sit down and be quiet again. “In case it wasn’t clear, this school is now a zero tolerance zone. Bullying is outlawed. If any teachers see it and don’t stop it or report it, they will be fired. It is everyone’s responsibility to look out for one another and make this a safe learning space for all of the students. There will be a letter sent home in the next couple days…”

The principal was cut off when a horrid sound echoed through the room. Every eye was on Jackson Whittemore standing there, pale and trembling, with his arms wrapped around his stomach. Everyone knew what the sound was, it was the loudest, wettest sounding fart Stiles had ever heard. This was no breaking wind, or passing gas, this was straight out sharting, if you know what I mean. So wet sounding, Stiles had to slap his hand over his mouth to keep his giggles quiet, knowing Jackson would have shit tracks in his drawers for sure. Hopefully the guy didn’t go commando.

Then a bunch of girls screamed and pointed at the pained teen. And there it was, the end of Jackson’s reign as king of the school, all in the form of an oozy greenish brown substance running down his leg and puddling up on the gym floor.

There were horrified screams and shouts from his friends still sitting a few feet behind him as they all got up and began moving away, Heather included, clearly not feeling the need to comfort her boyfriend. Jackson stood there, bright red and apparently unable to stop the flow of… well, you know, continuing to escape him, the horrifying noises continuing.

Stiles felt a jolt of sympathy as the guy stood there, the entire school sitting there watching his humiliating experience. Then Stiles remembered being stabbed, pushed, shoved, slapped, punched, swirlee’d, his tires popped, being laughed at during panic attacks, laughed at when he cried in middle school because his mother died. And the worst crime at all, Jackson accusing him of killing his mother. Add to that, watching Scott get punched in the solar plexus during an asthma attack. Helplessly listening to Allison cry when she’d been mocked over her mother’s suicide. Holding Lydia when she realized her boyfriend wanted nothing to do with her after all her family’s money was gone. Shielding a freaking out Isaac and trying to get him out of the school safely after he’d been shoved and locked into a locker, yet again, as memories of his father’s abuse rolled through his mind. Picking up a teary Kira off the floor after she’d tripped and was surrounded by Jackson’s contingent, being mocked. Holding Malia back from punching the fucker after she’d been teased for being in a coma and needing to be in remedial classes to catch up.

After all of those years’ worth of memories flashed through his mind and even more, Stiles grinned. A rather sadistic smile, yes, but one thing he’d learned about being a Spark. What you put out into the universe would come back to you at some point. Jackson had pulled so much shit on people throughout his life, it was only fitting that shit would be his karmic reward.

Stiles grinned wide and began clapping, and slowly he was joined by every single person in the gymnasium, clapping and whistling.  Most of the people there had probably been a victim of this asshole at some point in their lives. So they applauded him, shouted “Bravo!” and “Encore!” and enjoyed the comeuppance of a truly nasty person.

For a split second, Jackson turned and met Stiles’ eyes. Stiles just winked and held his hands higher so he could see the applause Stiles was sending him. Then, as the principal called out that they were dismissed, he gathered his friends and they walked outside and just gathered together and hugged each other.

“I feel like singing “Fight Song” right about now,” Stiles joked as they huddled together. “We still have a lot of fight left in us, right?”

“Right!” Scott cheered, bouncing.

The puppy-ish teen should have been a cheerleader he was so peppy, Stiles thought.

“It kinda makes me glad some of us had vengeful thoughts,” Allison told him, smiling wide.

“I know I, for one, had a deep wish for revenge and retribution for all the shit we’ve been put through, pun intended,” Lydia said. “You guys more than me. I’ve only been an outcast for a year. You guys have been dealing with that bastard a lot longer than me.”

Stiles closed his eyes and concentrated on sending a loud burst of gratitude toward the new bond line in his Spark, hoping Derek would get it. When he opened his eyes, he saw a black Camaro pull up in front of the school. To his shock, Derek got out of the car and stood there, leaning against the roof of the car. He met Stiles’ wide eyed gaze and nodded and gave him a grin and a wink before getting back in the car and driving away.

The man/spirit was as amazing as his awesome face.

“Who was that in the car?” Malia asked, her sharp eyes never missing anything.

“That would be Derek,” Stiles told her with a wink.

“Who? What car?” Isaac asked, looking around, hating that he missed something.

“Some hot guy just pulled up and winked at Stiles and then just left again,” Malia shared.

“Stiles?” Lydia said, the way she said his name letting him know he better tell her all the details right now.

So he did. “That is the human form of our new friend. He was just saying ‘you’re welcome’ for the shit storm that just took place in the cafeteria,” he said, chuckling at his own joke. “Heh heh, shit storm.”

Scott snorted and laughed, punching him in the arm.

“He has a human form?” Allison was suddenly alert, looking around them.

“He doesn’t mean any harm,” Stiles soothed her, rubbing her arm. “He said we could call him Derek and he is able to take human form when necessary or whenever he wants to, I guess. And it’s a very nice form,” Stiles said with a wink.

“I can’t believe I missed him,” Kira pouted.

“I’m sure we’ll all see him again soon. In the meantime, why don’t we celebrate King Shit and the end of his reign at this school,” Stiles suggested and his friends agreed. He knew he’d have to talk to his dad and make a proper police report and talk to the principal the next day. But for now, it was time to celebrate their safety, and happiness in this new time in their lives. They were free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to add a quick note that isn’t meant for the majority of the readers. I only received one negative comment and as I happily waved the person off to read better stories than mine, I realized something. I am past the point in my writing and my life where I am going to change my stories for the readers. This is not meant to offend anyone in any way. I appreciate ideas and excited thoughts on where the stories might go. That is the thrilling part of writing. I mean changing entire ideas and story arcs based on what the fans want. I am very guilty of doing this in the past and I would get so beat down, so frustrated by never getting my story right, nobody ever being completely happy. So, this is me letting the world know that I’m done with that. If you don’t like a name or a bad guy or a nickname or a power or any of the other tiny things that can (surprisingly) make someone stop reading a story, I’m sorry. This story came to me and I’m writing it as it came to me. Any changes will be decided by me. I write in the hopes it will entertain. If it doesn’t, feel free and happy trails to you as you go off to find something else to read. It is not going to bother me. And writing just to tell me you’re not going to read is just a dick move meant to insult my story and make me feel bad. Guess what? It doesn’t. So thanks for the fodder I read to my husband and friends so we can all have our own chat session about the comments I get. Karma. What you put out in the world comes back to you.
> 
> Love and hugs to all my kind and respectful readers!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek get to know each other and Stiles gets a shocking visit from an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for vague discussion of non-con. (Not Stiles or Derek)

Stiles wasn’t surprised when he walked in his room and found Derek standing by the window, looking out over the back yard.

“That was amazing, dude. You were amazing!” Stiles gave him a big grin as he dropped his backpack on his bed.

Derek turned and grinned. “I hoped you’d like that. I saw what that little bastard did to all of you during the day and now I understand why your friends wanted revenge. It was completely warranted.”

“I wanted it too. For them. I just couldn’t risk losing out on your help with everything else,” Stiles said quietly.

“I get it, Genim, I really do. Did you have a good time with your father this morning?” When Derek had entered Stiles mind at the Nemeton, he’d grasped how close he was to his estranged father. It felt good to do something so pleasant for someone.

“I did. It was awkward at first, but we got used to each other again quickly. This whole day has been amazing,” Stiles said, bouncing down to sit on his bed.

“I’m very glad to hear that. Are you in any pain? We’ll have to let the bruises heal normally but there is no reason for you to be in pain.”

Stiles shook his head. “No, I’m good. I got beat up twice and I don’t feel anything, it’s great!”

Smiling, Derek took a seat at Stiles’ desk. “Good. Do you mind if I stay a while? I was hoping we could spend some time together. Get to know each other outside of the wishes.”

Unable to help the nervous twinge in his stomach, Stiles nodded. “That’s fine. Anything in particular you want to do?”

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself. How did you come to find out you were a Spark?”

So that’s what they did. Stiles talked for what seemed like forever. How he discovered he was different a few months after his mom was taken from him. He’d been crying, again, and his lamp had exploded. Then in the kitchen, the faucet had blown. From the start he’d been able to control it. He knew that if he concentrated, the faucet would fix itself. His powers had been all about protecting him, emotionally at least. He had tried to use the power to keep Jackson from beating him up but it hadn’t done any good. Scott was the first person he told, his friend hadn’t believed him until he’d made him float up a foot up in the air. Once he knew that had gone well, he told the rest of his friends. When Lydia joined them, he was able to help her through the trials of her finding out she was a banshee.

It was past ten at night when Stiles turned the tables. “Now, it’s your turn. Tell me about you.”

Derek wasn’t ready to share his entire story, but he did feel okay talking about what it was like to be him. He started with the first time he became human again and the subsequent times he did it just because he enjoyed it. That caught Stiles by surprise. He couldn’t imagine wanting to be human and dealing with human things. But once he heard Derek’s reasons, he could understand. From there Derek told Stiles about the many wishes he granted and the favors he got in return. He shared some of the funnier and surprising wishes.

“Wait… she wanted her husband to give birth… out of his ass?” Stiles was folded over, laughing, his eyes watering.

Derek, who’d migrated over to the bed and was sharing the snacks Stiles had fetched, nodded. “Yes. He wasn’t sympathetic at all to her having their daughter. A nine pound baby girl, by the way. He kept telling her it was what she was made for. That she was meant to give birth so it couldn’t be that bad.”

Stiles snorted and shook his head in awe at the stupidity of people. “Seriously. The guy needed a brain transplant, not an ass baby. So did you do it? You didn’t right?”

Derek grinned and tried to look mysterious, but just started laughing instead. “It was all a spell. He really didn’t give birth, nothing actually physical happened to him. He thought he did though, he felt contractions and dilation, all that good stuff.”

“Oh my god, you are the best! Seriously, the best ever!” Stiles rolled onto his side, laughing so hard his stomach muscles were hurting.

“Yeah, he uh, bought his wife a diamond ring, a new car, a house and a lifetime membership at her favorite spa. It was worth it. She said he never disrespected her again when I went back to see her. It was one of the more memorable of my wishes, so I had to see what happened with them. She was happy, it was great,” Derek said, finally settling down. Glancing at Stiles’ clock, he sat up. “Damn, it’s one in the morning. You need to get some sleep.”

“Will you come back tomorrow?” Stiles asked hopefully.

Derek smiled, happiness soaring through him. Even if it was only to hear his stories, his mate wanted to spend time with him. It was a huge step in the right direction. “Absolutely. I’d love to.”

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

Derek came back the next afternoon. And the next, and every night for the next week. Stiles heard all of Derek’s best stories. In return, Derek rejoiced with Stiles that his school life had finally calmed down. They discussed Derek meeting Stiles’ dad since he was coming home more often. Derek told Stiles that he could create a glamour to make himself look younger, more Stiles’ age, so he was more acceptable to the older man. Stiles refused, saying his father wouldn’t be surprised if he was seeing an older man.

“So, are we seeing each other?” Derek asked, his hands trembling.

“Well, we kind of are, aren’t we?” Stiles asked, just as shy.

“I guess so,” Derek replied, his green eyes glowing with joy.

While his father wasn’t thrilled about the obvious age difference, he didn’t put up a fuss. Derek told him later that his father had threatened him with all sorts of violent bodily harm. Stiles started apologizing profusely, when Derek took his hand gently.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. He only said it because he loves you, Genim. He wants you to be happy and not be hurt. I didn’t take any kind of offense to it. Okay?”

Stiles looked at their hands and was shaken at how much he liked it. “Okay,” he whispered.

There were several moments like that where they seemed to be feeling things that only confused Stiles. Derek didn’t feel confused at all, which shocked Stiles. He got the fact that he was meant to be Derek’s companion, his mate, but it seemed his new friend (and yes, he considered them friends at this point) felt a lot more than mere companionship or friendship for him. He seemed to be in love with Stiles, though he refused to acknowledge it.

For now, he was simply happy to celebrate normal days at school and the end of the reign of Jackson Whittemore.

It was indeed, the end of Jackson’s popularity at Beacon Hills High School. Though he’d been arrested the day of the assembly, he’d been released on bail until his court date. He was being home schooled, though he came to the school occasionally for a class or to pick up his assignments. But it wasn’t the same. Jackson Whittemore was now a pariah. His now ex-girlfriend, Heather, had taken her Queen Bitch status and used it as a threat to anyone who might have anything to do with Jackson or think they could take up where he left off, they would meet the same popularity drop he had. Theo and Matt even stopped hanging around him or associating with him, which was a surprise to everyone. Then it was whispered then shouted through the hallways that Jackson Whittemore had to wear adult diapers because he apparently couldn’t control his bowels as he once had.

Out of the blue, Heather showed up at Stiles’ house after school around two weeks after the Jackson incident, and asked to talk to him. He’d agreed warily but saw a flash of sincerity in her eyes that he hadn’t seen since she’d started dating King Shit. (That was his new name now, everyone called him that. Even Coach, which was hilarious as he cackled in glee every time he said it.) He led her into his house and as soon as the door was closed, she immediately launched herself into his arms, apologizing profusely for the way she treated him for the last year. He accepted her apology of course, he loved Heather like a sister and missed her. When he asked her why she did it, she burst into tears. It was then that Stiles realized what it felt like to want to truly do someone harm. End of life kind of harm. These were teen girl kind of tears, these were wracking, soul ripping tears.

Apparently, Jackson had started sniffing around her last year and when she didn’t jump to attention like he expected, he had Theo and Matt start following her and harassing her, calling her names, touching her inappropriately, all the with the promise that it would stop once she agreed to be Jackson’s. So she had. And the harassment did stop. But the beatings started. At first, it was a slap here and there to correct how she talked to Jackson or how she dressed. He said she should feel lucky that he was molding her and forming her into the perfect popular girlfriend. She was a blank slate for him, he would say as he hit her. Then it turned into forcing her to kiss him or touch him. Then it was rape.

Heather told Stiles in between heaving sobs that she had tried to go to her parents and told them that he was harassing her, but Jackson’s dad was some big shot lawyer and had threatened her parents into silence when they talked to him about the situation. She felt stuck and so she’d become an ice queen. Trying to model herself after Lydia seemed to help and as long as she did everything Jackson required of her, she wouldn’t get hit as much. If she initiated sex, it wasn’t as violent. He even encouraged her to become more popular but being mean to others. It helped his own reputation.

As she was talking, the doorbell sounded. Heather immediately stopped crying and looked panicked, her wet eyes wide with sudden fear. Stiles had a feeling he knew who was at the door after his rather violent desire to kill someone. He walked her into the kitchen and handed her a bottle of water.

“Stay here, sweetie. I think it’s someone who can help us. Wait here, I’ll be right back, ok?” Stiles smiled at her encouragingly and jogged to the door.

Indeed, it was Derek on the porch, looking curious yet protective. Stiles thought he might be able to recognize when Derek was around with a bit of practice. It felt like a small ping against his Spark. But that was something to be discussed at a later time.

“What happened?” Derek demanded, his eyes black instead of their normal light green, which Stiles was coming to like a little too much.

Stepping out on the porch with Derek, Stiles quickly shared what Heather told him. “Is there anything you could do to help? Maybe make it so Jackson’s dad can’t do anything against her family, or making the police believe her?”

Derek sighed with relief. He knew Genim had gotten furious, but there was a touch of hurt to the emotion, too. He was glad it was just his mate’s soft heart hurting for his friend and not something happening against him. It was yet another example of the amazing person Genim was. For this, he could help his friend gladly.

“Absolutely. I’ll just say I’m your very rich friend who has friends in high and low places,” Derek said with a smile, his eyes melting back to their soft green. “Oh and I forgot to tell you, I use the last name Hale when dealing with humans.”

“Noted. Very rich, huh? I’m pretty sure a.. ahem, friend like you doesn’t need money,” Stiles said with a grin.

“Actually, I like collecting money and have some from each time I was human like I told you about,” Derek said.

“How much are you worth then, money bags?” Stiles teased.

“About sixty three million dollars.” Stiles’ eyes bugged out and he choked on a gasp as Derek kept talking, though he softly patted Stiles’ back helpfully. “But that was twenty years ago, I haven’t checked in since then. I’ll have to call the banks,” Derek mused, making a note to himself. He’d been looking at houses and considering building one of his own. It would depend on whether Stiles wanted to settle down in this area after he graduated from college or if he would want to live elsewhere. He wouldn’t build in that case.

Stiles was still gaping at the staggering amount of money Derek had when those tan fingers came up and gently shut his mouth. Stiles shook his head to clear it, both from shock and the heat Derek’s touch inspired. He’d noticed they’d both become comfortable with casual touches. The tingling feeling Stiles got with each one only got more intense with time.

“Anyway, let’s go talk to your friend. Once I shake her hand, I’ll be connected enough to help her.”

“Thank you,” Stiles said sincerely. “She’s been my friend since we were in diapers. This means a lot to me.”

Derek smiled, pleased that his mate was depending on him and coming to him with his troubles. “I’m glad to help, really.”

Following behind Stiles into the house, Derek put his warm hand against the small of his back. It felt like electricity crackled between them every time they got close. Stiles loved it and worried about it at the same time. Was it smart to fall for a demi god? Even if that demi god was going to be with him for the rest of his life?

“Heather, this is my good friend Derek Hale. He can help you with getting Jackson out of your life for good,” Stiles said, sitting next to her.

Derek extended his hand and gave her a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet such a good friend of Stiles’. He’s told me a lot about your childhood pranks.”

Heather had looked worried, but gave a little chuckle when Derek mentioned the pranks. She shook his hand and felt a little shock. “Oops I shocked you, sorry. It’s really nice to meet you. Um… how can you help me?”

“Why don’t you tell me everything and then we’ll get everything fixed,” Derek said, taking the seat next to Stiles.

Heather shared her story again. Stiles thought she would be hesitant to talk to a stranger but figured it out when he gave Derek a questioning look and received a wink in return. It must be the demi god mojo. She was immediately comfortable with him which definitely helped. As she talked, Stiles tried to ignore the way his heart leapt when Derek rubbed his hand along Stiles’ fingers under the table. He wasn’t very successful.

“Did you ever seek out medical care?” Derek’s questions were all gently asked but straight to the point.

Heather looked at Stiles guiltily. “Yes, I saw Melissa McCall. She would meet me at my house when my folks weren’t home and treat any wounds I had, gave me pain medicine and wraps for my ribs. Jackson had a thing for kicking my ribs.”

“Been there, done that,” Stiles muttered, rubbing at a ghost pain in his own ribs. He wondered why Mrs. McCall had never told him about Heather, but then, duh, confidentiality. Hell, the woman would probably keep a secret from her son about Stiles if he asked her to. She was one hell of a woman. Stiles made a note to talk to Derek about all she’d done for them and for Heather and see if she could benefit from Derek’s wish granting power.

“I’m so sorry about that, Stiles. I know I should have stopped him from hurting you, but I didn’t know what he would do if I tried to butt in,” Heather said, getting teary-eyed again.

“I don’t blame you at all, Heather. I admit, I was a little hurt at first, but I understand now. I’m glad you didn’t put yourself further into harm’s way,” Stiles assured her, patting her hand. “I’m also glad you went to Mrs. McCall. That’s Scott’s mom,” he told Derek who nodded.

“Did Mrs. McCall keep any documentation by any chance?” Derek asked and Stiles could see where he was going.

“Yes, each time she would take pictures of the injuries and a small video of me talking about what happened, the kinds of threats he would use against me. Do you think we could use any of it?” Her eyes held all the hope in the world.

“I know we can. Don’t worry about a thing. Talk to Mrs. McCall and give permission so she can get copies of the pictures and videos for us. I’ll handle it from there. I guarantee Jackson Whittemore will be serving jail time for what he has done to you,” Derek swore, his eyes fierce.

Heather’s jaw dropped, her eyes teary but lit with a hope that was seeing a chance.

“Well, I know a certain Sheriff who won’t be pushed around by some big mouthed lawyer. Besides, I can take care of Mr. Whittemore. He won’t even be involved. His son isn’t the only criminal in the family,” Derek said with a devious grin.

“That’s another thing. Why didn’t you talk to my dad? You know he loves you like a daughter. He would have helped you, despite the problems he and I had.” Stiles was a little hurt on his dad’s behalf. They had been having breakfast together every day and dinner when they could. They’d been talking through all the time they’d missed, it was awesome.

“Jackson let me know in no uncertain terms that you would pay if I got your dad involved,” Heather said quietly, twisting her fingers. “I couldn’t risk it. Jackson wasn’t one for making empty promises.”

“Well, we’re going to risk it now. Dad will kick Jackson’s ass into the nearest cell before carting him off to county to become bitch to the biggest Bubba they have,” Stiles said with malice glowing his whiskey eyes.

This time it was Derek trying to control his reaction. Seeing his mate’s eyes and that little grin of vengeance made his pants significantly tighter. Genim’s righteous anger was a thing of beauty.

 

. ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ .~ .

 

Sure enough, after just a couple of conversations with Derek, the Sheriff and Mrs. McCall, they had all the proof they needed. By Friday, Jackson was being held without bail. Jackson’s dad was also held without bail after (mysteriously!) being found embezzling from the law firm he worked at.

(Fast forward a couple months due to the slow court time, Jackson was sentenced to ten years and his father to twenty. Yes, it was Derek’s influence that got those long sentences. The court systems weren’t _that_ good. But Heather wouldn’t be hurt again. Jackson’s former cronies learned not to fuck with Heather after hearing about her fairy godfather. It was awesome.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it before and I'll say it again, Teen Wolf fans are the BEST in the world. Hugs to everyone out there. That's all!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek move along in their relationship...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry!! I've been having a hard time, not wanting to write at all. But I realized I had more of this written and I've cleaned it up the best I can. Please be kind with your comments. Thanks loveys!! More coming right now, I just need to finish editing!

Stiles woke up from an erotic dream that had him sitting up and coming, a loud cry echoing in the room, and sat there, panting, knowing he was screwed. He was falling in love with a demon. It had been over a month since he’d met Derek at the Nemeton. Oddly, he felt like he knew the spirit well. He wasn’t a demon, he was a demi god. A demi god who used to be human, well, not exactly human. A werewolf. Wow. He grinned, remembering his reaction the night he heard the news.

“Stiles, we’ve been getting to know each other and since we’re going to be together for a long time, I wanted to tell you the truth about me,” Derek said. He was sitting next to Stiles on his bed, who was cuddled under his blankets. When Derek had begun his nightly visits, he’d started out in his desk chair. Then the edge of the bed and now he sat next to Stiles. He never invaded his space by coming under the blanket, but stayed there next to him, his shoes off and his long legs cross on top of his comforter.

“What’s the truth? Are you really a leprechaun and you have your very own pot o’ gold at the end of the rainbow?” Stiles asked in a very poor Irish accent, before laughing at his own joke as if it was the best thing in the world.

Derek chuckled, loving his mate’s sense of humor. “Sorry, no, no pot o’ gold,” he replied.

Stiles stopped laughing and gasped. “What are you talking about? Are you trying to tell me you _are_ a leprechaun? What?! Are you serious?”

“Of course not! I’m not a leprechaun. I’m a werewolf,” Derek said, laughing more than he had in a long time. And that was saying something. Stiles made him laugh all the time. His sense of humor was sharp and fast and Derek knew he had to keep up or his mate would get bored.

“A werewolf, yeah right,” Stiles snorted, elbowing Derek gently in the side. “Good one.”

“This time I’m actually serious,” Derek said, calming and looking at Stiles seriously.

Stiles sat up, his jaw dropping. “What? Awesome!” Stiles was bouncing around under his blanket, eager for more information.

“I guess I should say I was a werewolf. My wolf got ripped out of me when I was turned into a demi god,” Derek said, grimacing at the awful memory of the feeling of his other half being torn from him.

“Derek, oh my god. What happened?” Stiles settled, though his fingers went automatically to the hem of his shirt, fiddling with the material.

For once, Derek let himself be taken back through time to the memories of that awful day. He told Stiles about Kate and her attempts to woo him into being with her and how he turned her down. “When she left, I shifted and went for a run.”

“What is that like?” Stiles asked softly, always inquisitive.

“Freedom. Pure freedom. You don’t have to think, you just have to _be_. There are no expectations or duties or chores, no job. You just let the animal inside you take over. I loved running through the forest, jumping over logs and hunting for game. Bathing in a river instead of a wooden tub. It was the best feeling. I felt more like myself as a wolf then as a human in the tight restricting clothes of that time.” Stiles knew he was two hundred years old. He’d physically fallen out of his bed, flailing in shock, when Derek told him that tidbit. It felt right telling him this now. Quickly, he finished the story about coming across Kate again and the moment when she turned him into a demi god. “It was the worst feeling ever. Like being peeled out of my skin. Imagine having your Spark, how it is so much a part of you, now picture it being ripped from you. It was the worst moment of my entire existence.”

Stiles shuddered and tears welled up in his eyes. “Derek, I’m so sorry. What did you do? Is Kate still bothering you?”

Derek shook his head and his eyes went black for a moment before returning to green. “No, I learned all I could from her and then killed her in the very way she told me to be careful of.”

“Good!” Stiles face was hard. “Did you ever see your family again?”

Derek quickly told him about watching his family live and die out. “I was in this invisible prison. I punched, hit, kicked, everything I could think of, every ounce of my strength, but it did no good. I watched as my mother looked for me for months, I followed along with her, saw her collapse in tears at the end of each day. When she would shift and search the nearby forests, she would go to the peak near our house and howl this horrible howl. It ate at my soul, it was so heart wrenching. My little brothers and sister all blamed themselves at one point or another. They wouldn’t go to each other for comfort, but I was there, watching them cry and blame themselves with no recourse. I screamed and cried and begged for release, but there was none. Once they decided to give up, they went on with life, but it was like they weren’t the same happy, laughing family. They were missing a pack member. It was awful for them. My mother died just ten years after my disappearance. My father wrote in his journal that he was sure it was because her son had disappeared. He hated me a little. There was a part of him that thought I chose to leave, that I selfishly left my entire family with no warning or notice. He hated the selfishness he thought I showed.

“Anyway, after Mom died, Uncle Peter took over. He wanted to be the most powerful Alpha in the country, hell, probably the world. He constantly had my brothers, sisters, and father out recruiting wolves and bringing him people who wanted to be changed.” Derek paused when he saw the surprised look on Stiles’ face. “Yes, you can be turned into a werewolf by an Alpha. He can bite to kill or he can bite to turn. Peter made great use of both. He worked my family so hard, they didn’t have time to live their own lives. He set up marriages with my siblings and neighboring packs to garner more position and power. Twenty years later, he didn’t feel like he was powerful enough so he started killing all his beta’s. He didn’t kill my siblings but he did keep them trapped in the packlands. They weren’t allowed to travel so he could keep an eye on them and what they were doing. He seemed to know that they would turn on him and work with another pack to take him down. And they would have.

“So there I was, watching my pack, the family I loved so much, fall apart. One by one my siblings grew older and died. I didn’t know for sure as I tended to watch my siblings more than Uncle Peter, but I think he poisoned them slowly over the course of years. How else did he outlive them? Then, it was forty some years later and Peter was the only one left. All of my family was dead.” Derek swallowed hard and tried to control the emotions that were coming alive as he told his tale in more detail then he’d ever done. His mate deserved to know everything. “He didn’t even give them grave markers, he just had one of his beta’s bury them. Just throw dirt on them and walk away. Then one day, Peter grabbed his chest as he sat in his desk chair, his throne, as I thought of it, and keeled over, dead. The remaining beta’s that hadn’t been born into the family were so grateful he was gone, they just left. He rotted there with the house. It eventually caved in on itself. By the time I was released from that hell and finally free of Kate, it was just a heap of rotted wood. I burned it where it was and then salted the land so his evil could never spread. So that’s my story. Kate freed me after fifty years and I was grateful to her for that small mercy. I then turned that gratitude into a plan to kill her. Anyway. I don’t like thinking about it too much, so if you have questions, ask them now.”

“You really don’t have any relatives?” Stiles asked, thinking how horrifying it would be to be seemingly just out of reach of his father and then watch him and Scott and all his friends die. Awful. That would be hell.

“None of my immediate family, no. They all died,” Derek said. “I could have searched for more of the distant cousins, but I couldn’t do that to myself. It would have just been more lives that I would see lived out before they died.”

“I don’t blame you,” Stiles said, an idea forming in his mind. He’d have to pull Lydia in on it if he couldn’t handle it by himself. But first, he’d give it a try. It’s the least he could do for the man who’d done so much for him. “Thank you for telling me about your history. I know it couldn’t be easy. I don’t have any more questions.”

Derek felt gratitude well up in him, an emotion he noticed himself feeling more and more often in his mate’s company. “Thank you for not making me dig into it too much. I just wanted you to know all of me. I know so much about you, it’s only fair if I’m honest in return.” They were silent for a few minutes, looking around before glancing back at the other.

“Can I tell you something?” Stiles asked, his cheeks pinking up.

“Of course, anything,” Derek said, turning more towards him.

“I wish I could kiss you sometimes,” he whispered.

“I’d love it if you kissed me,” Derek whispered back.

Stiles’ eyes widened, his honey brown eyes dilating. He leaned in hesitantly and Derek didn’t make him do all the work, leaning in the rest of the way. Their lips met softly, one chaste kiss before moving back far enough to look at each other. Their lips quickly met again when they saw the same welcome reflected in their eyes. This time they let their lips mingle longer, touching and moving and getting to know the feel of one another.

Stiles couldn’t help the whimper that escaped him. He let his lips part, hoping Derek would take over and groaned loudly when he did. Derek’s tongue tasted his lips, a sound escaping his own throat before he delved in further, tasting all of Stiles’ mouth.

Derek was in heaven. Stiles tasted like everything good,  everything that made him happy. He was sure Stiles’ kisses could cure the world’s ills. He was so sweet, so pliant, so eager, it was perfect.

They broke apart, breathing heavily.

Stiles stared at him, eyes dilated, cheeks pink with desire. Clearing his throat, he looked down for a moment, so damn beautiful Derek wanted to worship at his feet. Those honey gold eyes looked back up at him and words came out of those lips he never thought he could be lucky enough to hear.

“I think I could be happy being yours for the rest of my life,” he whispered.

Derek’s eyes lit up, a smile stretching his face, Stiles’ giggled in response. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. You make me happy,” Stiles continued. “I feel like you actually care about me.”

“I do care about you, Stiles. I made that deal with you in the beginning, but since then, getting to know you, learning about you, seeing your beautiful heart, your wicked sense of humor, that scary intelligent brain of yours… I’ve quite fallen for you, Genim Stilinski,” Derek said, caressing that pink cheek and those soft lips.

“Same here, Derek. I think, no, screw that,” Stiles paused and shook his head before taking Derek’s face in his hands. It was time to get it all out. “I know I love you, Derek Hale. I love the human and werewolf you were and I love the demi god you are and I love the mate that you have become. I am happy to be with you.”

Derek stared at him in shock, tears falling unbidden down his face. “You do?”

Stiles smiled and wiped Derek’s cheeks dry. “I do.” He looked at him hopefully.

“Oh,” Derek said, grinning widely, “Yes, I love you too, Stiles, so very much.”

And with that, the room burst into a storm of sparks, and Derek disappeared from sight.

“Derek?” Stiles stood up and looked around. “Derek? Where are you?” He ran to the window and looked outside but there was no sign of his mate. His mate, he really thought of him that way now. Searching his Spark, he still felt the bond between them, it was still there. It felt different though, wild somehow and raw. He didn’t understand it, but it let him know Derek was at least safe and sound, wherever he was. He knew that Derek being a spirit meant weird shit was bound to happen. He just wished it hadn’t happened when they were professing their love. And maybe showing it physically, Stiles thought ruefully. Taking a deep breath, Stiles sent a poke along their bond to see if Derek would respond, but there was nothing yet.

Oh well, at least he’d heard Derek’s answer before he’d disappeared. There was something he wanted to do before he saw Derek again anyway, so he would take advantage of his absence.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it my friends! I hope you enjoy this last chapter and the small epilogue at the end.

The next day, Stiles began his search. He knew the name, year and general area to search and he let his Spark influence his steps. Thankfully, he and Lydia had explored the ancestor search website thoroughly last summer so he knew what to do. Two hours later, his hoodie had been thrown to his bed, his hair was standing in every direction and he was pretty sure he had a sugar high from all the Mountain Dew he’d been drinking. But there it was, the answer he’d been hoping to find and he stood and whooped loudly, jumping around the room. He had found some living relatives of Derek’s! His mate had family! According to Derek’s story, his uncle had taken lovers but never had a mate, something that went against all wolf instincts. So Peter didn’t know that he’d fathered a child. It was that line of descendants that Stiles had found. Ironically, every descendant only had daughters. Peter would have hated that, he was sure. But that name sounded so familiar and it was bugging him, a great, great, great, great granddaughter of Peter Hale, who had actually gotten married in California, of all the luck. Jumping back into the research, his heart plunged when he learned the woman had died, as had her youngest daughter. Wait a second…

Suddenly, his stomach jumped as his over-caffeinated brain connected the dots. The woman’s married last name was Tate and she’d had two daughters.

“Holy shit!” Stiles entered into a private browser screen and entered the Sheriff’s Department website. Typing in his dad’s password, he knew he had about ten minutes before someone would discover someone was hacking into the site. Faster than he’d ever typed, he entered the date of the woman’s death. And there it was. Linda Tate, descendant of Peter Hale, had indeed lived in California. Beacon Hills, to be precise. And she had died in a car accident as had her daughter. However, her older daughter had lived through the wreck.

There it was, all the missing pieces clicking together. Malia Tate, best friend of Stiles Stilinski, was the descendant and relative – make that cousin – to Derek Hale.

 

                                                      . . . . .

 

Derek stood up, having fallen when he’d landed, or appeared, wherever he was. He had no idea what happened. Last he knew, he’d admitted his love to Stiles after Stiles had professed love to him. Stiles loved him! They were true mates in every sense of the word now. It was an amazing feeling.

Looking around, he realized he was in a forest that looked achingly familiar. Turning when his senses told him to, he saw it, the willow tree he had planted over the remains of his family’s house so many years ago. That tree was around a hundred years old and was blooming brilliantly. Why was he there?

Then it hit him like a punch to the gut, causing a gasp to burst out of him. The spell was complete! Stiles had fallen in love with him and admitted it to him with no pressure from Derek, as he’d been directed. If that was the case…

As soon as he thought it, a burst of power flooded through his body and a loud roar escaped his mouth. His mouth was wide open, teeth lengthening, sharpening into fangs. Hair was sprouting along his jaw line and down his hands. Looking down he saw claws sprouting from his fingers. And there it was, the change of eye color that suddenly brought the world into brighter focus. Like an old friend, his wolf stretched through his body and he let out a celebratory howl. Without another thought, he stripped and shifted, taking on his wolf skin for the first time in two hundred years. It was heaven. He felt his paws grip the earth and in total elation, he pushed forward and took off. Leaping over bushes and downed trees, he felt like he’d never been separated from the wolf inside him. He knew his tail was wagging and his tongue was lolling every time he stopped to take in the still familiar smells of loam and ferns and moss, things he had missed so desperately. Joyfully he splashed through a small river before dipping his snout low enough to take a long, cool drink of water. If he’d had his human tears, he’d be crying, he was so filled with happiness. He was complete. He was a wolf once more. He came upon a small herd of deer and decided to celebrate with some fresh meat. As he easily became a predator, hunting as familiar as if he’d done it just yesterday, he paused when his eyes took on a sharper view. What was that? Why were the edges of his vision tinged with red?

Holy shit, he realized quickly. He was an alpha. It made sense, he supposed. With his entire line gone, the power had simply waited until he became a wolf to pass to him. It would take some getting used to and some definite thought, but for now, the extra power would help him capture his evening meal.

After spending a long time eating and then cleaning up in the river, he spent another few hours leisurely making his way around the forest, exploring and reacquainting himself with his wolf. He made his way back to his clothes. Shifting, he grinned at the ache in his muscles. He couldn’t be happier with the slight pain. It was the first time he’d felt pain in two hundred years and he enjoyed it. He was feeling so much deeper than he remembered, ever sensation like new. And… the pain was gone. His healing had kicked in much faster than he’d been used to back when he was a beta.

Lucky for him, he had his wallet on him and made his way to the nearest hotel, a small family run business who welcomed him with smiles and offers for a free breakfast. He accepted and made his way to the room. Holy crap, Stiles didn’t know where he was! He felt for the bond he’d had when he was a demi god and there it was, though now, it was different. Grinning like an idiot, he recognized it for what it was. It was a werewolf mate bond. It was a beautiful thing. He couldn’t be happier for himself and for Stiles. He could finally tell Stiles about the spell and about his new life. There was no way he would keep it to himself. Stiles might be upset, but they would work through it as people who loved each other did. They loved each other! He was mortal! Life was freaking awesome! He would live out the remainder of his days with Stiles and they would both leave this life for the next one together. Chuckling and knowing if anyone saw him, they’d think he was insane, he knew most people would think him insane for almost looking forward to death. But eternal life was not all it was cracked up to be. It was damn lonely and seemed to stretch out … well, forever.

Making plans for the next day, Derek needed to hop a plane back to California. Someday he would bring Stiles to his homeland and show him the place where his life had been stolen from him and where it had been given back. And it was all due to him. Stiles and his giving, loving heart had given him his life back. His purpose was now to just live and love. There was no more worrying about a spell and waiting and watching. Now, he could do anything he wanted. One thing that would take some thought and consideration was the new need for a pack. Being an alpha made the need for betas necessary. With Stiles as his mate, he was now in a pack of two, but his wolf nature demanded wolf betas. It was something he would need to give careful consideration to as well as seeking his mate’s advice.

Derek, unable to resist, stripped and slipped his skin into his fur and crawled up onto the bed, wanting to sleep with his wolf. It was the most restful sleep he’d had in two hundred years. Sure, he hadn’t needed to sleep as a demon, but he’d done it anyway to while away the hours.

The next morning, he had a big breakfast and contemplated calling Stiles, but knew his mate was okay and Derek wanted to see him face to face in order to tell him what had happened.

Thanking the couple when he checked out, he hopped into the taxi they had called and rode to the airport. The flight home seemed to take forever and he realized quickly that flying as a werewolf wasn’t going to be something he wanted to do often. He prowled up and down the aisles and spent a lot of the time with a blanket over his clawed hands. He wished he’d known about this but planes hadn’t exactly been invented last time he was a werewolf.

Practically running out of the airport, he hopped into another taxi and had him drop him off at Stiles’ house. It was four in the afternoon and when he knocked at the door, he knew his mate was missing him.

Stiles opened the door and grinned at him before jumping into his arms. “You _are_ okay!” he exclaimed, squeezing him close.

Derek chuckled and gathered him to his heart and took in his scent. Oh! He smelled delicious. Paper and star anise and love. Love smelled wonderful on his mate. And touching him! Soft skin, warm to the touch, oh goddess, he wanted to kiss every mole on his mate’s body.

His mate squeaked loudly. “Squeezing too hard, Derek!”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” Derek said and released him, steadying him when he tottered a little. The extra alpha strength would take some getting used to. He didn’t mind in the slightest. “Can we talk?”

Smiling, Stiles took his hand and led him into the house. “Of course. Unless you’re dumping me.”

Frowning, Derek pulled him close again. “Why would I dump you?”

“Asking if we can talk is the number one phrase for letting your significant other know you want to have the break-up talk,” Stiles explained, running his hands up and down Derek’s arms. “Why do you feel hotter than normal. Are you sick? Is there anything I can do for you? Wait, you’re a demigod… can you even get sick? How would you have gotten sick? Is it a supernatural cold? We could find a spell….”

Derek finally put a hand over his mate’s mouth, chuckling. “I’m not sick, mate. But there is something new… well, old, that I need to talk to you about. Can we go upstairs?”

“Sure,” Stiles said when Derek lowered his hand. “I have some stuff I want to talk to you about. You go first.”

They made it to Stiles’ room and he shut his door wanting some privacy. Derek sounded serious and Stiles wanted no interruptions. They were a couple now and he would give this every bit of his attention. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to make this work.

“So, the last time you saw me, I was telling you I love you. And I do. I love you, so much,” Derek said, cupping Stiles’ cheek. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Stiles, lost in Derek’s bright green eyes, just nodded, wanting all the kisses.

Their lips met softly, Derek putting just the barest pressure behind the kiss. Stiles’ lips were just as soft as he’d imagined. Gently, he sucked lightly on his bottom lip than the top, enjoying the tiny moan that escaped his mate. Allowing himself one more kiss, he finally sat back. Grinning, he watched Stiles eyes flutter and then open, looking a little dazed. Kissing as himself, as the werewolf, was so different than as a demi god. More real, more heat, more everything. Stiles’ honey eyes were warm and soft.

“That had to be the most perfect kiss in all of creation,” Stiles whispered, licking his lips to collect Derek’s taste on his tongue. “You are delicious.”

Derek’s heart pounded at his mate’s sweet words. “As are you, my beautiful mate.”

Stiles closed his eyes once more trying to commit every little piece of that moment into his memory not only to remember it later, but to write it. That needed to be put into the written word. It was perfection. Finally settling himself, he opened his eyes and looked at Derek calmly. “Now, you wanted to talk.”

“Yes, as I was saying, last we knew, we were admitting our love and then there was the white burst. Well, that burst took me and transported me back to the packlands that I grew up on,” Derek said and Stiles gasped.

“Why? How? What?”

Holding up a finger, Derek said “Patience, love.” Stiles nodded and knotted his fingers, bouncing just a little.

“I have to tell you something and it may upset you, but I hope you will give it proper consideration.” Stiles nodded again, so Derek continued. “After I killed Kate, I sought out any witches and emmisaries I could find. I was hoping that because I was turned into a demi god against my will that I would be able to find a spell to reverse it. To turn me back into the werewolf and human I was. Many of those I sought would either not talk to me at all or look in their books and tell me I was screwed, essentially.” At this, Stiles reached out and took Derek’s hand, rubbing it sympathetically. Derek took this as a good sign that Stiles wouldn’t be too upset. “I finally found one, Emissary Deaton, who took pity on me and decided to help me. For several years, we searched for anything to help. Finally, we found a ritual that, if completed to the exact word, would change me back.”

Stiles couldn’t help himself, he was completely sucked into Derek’s story. He bounced on the bed, tapping his feet happily on the floor. “Oh Derek, I know I’m supposed to let you talk and you can, but if there is anything I can do to help, you know I will.”

Grinning, Derek squeezed his mate’s hand gently. “I know, Stiles. Believe me, I know you will. So, the ritual had many parts and it started with finding a Spark who would approach a Nemeton with requests. Then if the person fit the criteria of the ritual, I would… um… Stiles, you know I love you.”

Stiles tilted his head, somehow knowing he might not like the rest of the story. “The criteria being the person was a virgin and would agree to belonging to you. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Derek said softly.

Jumping up, Stiles began to pace in front of him. He tried not to allow the thought that he’d been used to have any room.

Derek could admit he began sweating, unsure of how Stiles was going to take the rest of the story. “The person had to belong to me and… we had to fall in love.”

“Oh god,” Stiles moaned, arms around his middle. He felt sick. “It was all fake, wasn’t it? You loving me, all of that. You just made me fall in love with you.”

“No! Stiles, look at me,” Derek demanded, standing in front of his mate. “I did not make you fall in love with me. That was one of the stipulations. I could not influence you unduly in any way. You had to fall in love with me and I had to fall in love with you. Yes, I considered us mates from the beginning, but that was the only thing I could do. The rest had to happen organically. Otherwise, I was controlling it. This spell had to take the control away from me.” He reached out and took Stiles’ hands. “And it worked, my love, your love for me completed the spell. I’m a werewolf again! I’m no longer a demon or demi god, whatever you want to call that hell that was my existence.”

Stiles stared at Derek skeptically. “Prove it.”

Derek had no problem with that and instantly shifted to his beta form. “This is the real me, Stiles. This is who I was born to be. Because of your sacrifice and generosity of spirit and heart, I have been given back my original form,” Derek said urgently, tears burning in his eyes, his claws growing and shrinking in distress. “This is all because of you. You gave up yourself for your friends and for me. You didn’t know it, but your love was the magical catalyst that brought me back to being a whole, real person. My wolf was returned to me because of you. Please do not be upset, please don’t. I was going to be stuck as that… that being, for all eternity. Then you came along, wanting such pure things, wanting only good things for you and your friends and your father. Your heart influenced me and my life. Now I am whole and I owe it all to you.” Derek tightened his grip a little, shaking Stiles’ hands with the strength of his sentiments.

“I fell in love with your generous heart, your sense of humor, your ability to make me laugh when I haven’t had anything to laugh about in so damn long. I fell in love with your honey gold eyes that seem to stare into my broken soul. I fell in love with your brain, you are so damn smart, you could rule the world if you decided to try. I fell in love with your ability to love. None of your friends know how lucky they are to have your love. They’ll never know the strength it took to agree to be mine that day. They’ll never know the fear you felt or the loneliness of making that decision. And yet you didn’t hesitate, you said yes and gave all of them the chance to live and be happy. _You_ did that. Without you, I’d still be lost in the void between worlds and your friends would still be lost in misery. I love you for that, I love you for a thousand reasons. I am so honored to have you be my mate. I can’t wait to marry you and spend the rest of this life with you. Then, also because of you, I can pass into the next life with you by my side, still loving you just as much as I do now. You know I’ve wanted to be able to die, to be mortal, to know that eternity no longer existed for me. You did that. That burst of light yesterday was your love, our love and it transported me home where I became whole. I love you, Genim Stiles Malcolm Stilinski and nothing will ever change that. All I ask is that you consider forgiving me for the deception I had to use in order to become a werewolf again, to become myself again. I can promise you I will never keep anything from you ever again. Not for anything. I will always be yours, you will always be mine. Please say you’ll always be mine. Please, mate.” Derek finally fell silent, breathing heavily. He’d never said that much in his entire existence. He could only hope it was enough.

Stiles stared at Derek, tears finally escaping his eyes and running down his cheeks. He’d never dreamed someone would say the things Derek just said. The love shining from the depth of those green eyes staggered him. He was in a bit of shock trying to process all that was said. Stiles falling in love was natural, that was first and probably most important. The ritual to turn Derek back into a werewolf was very precise and took steps that were like a crapshoot. The chances of Derek finding people who fit the criteria were so incredibly low, it was almost impossible. That Stiles met it all and had fallen in love was like winning the lottery of a lifetime. He couldn’t possibly be mad, he had changed Derek’s life. Next, his mate was a werewolf. He reached up and ran his fingers run through the Wolverine-like sideburns on his mate’s beta form. He knew a little about werewolves, knew there were two at his school. He wondered if Derek could turn into a real wolf. There were so many questions. His mate was free! No more answering prayers and wishes. That kinda sucked as his help had come in very handy over the last month. But, now he got to keep Derek. Forever, if Derek were to be believed.

“You really want to stay with me forever?” Stiles asked quietly, feeling vulnerable.

Derek held Stiles hand to his face and nodded. “I will never leave you. Though, in full disclosure, you are now free to leave me if you want. Now that the ritual is complete, you are no longer bound to me in any form. You can tell me to leave and never come back and I will. I would hate it, but I will respect your decision.”

“What if I wanted to keep you?” Stiles looked down.

His mate looked so beautifully innocent and perfect he wanted to devour him. Oh crap, don’t think about the fact that you can now have sex with him, he told himself. Oh crap, he was going to give himself a very inappropriately timed hard on. “If you want to keep me, you have me. I have dedicated my life to yours. I am yours,” Derek said, stroking his hand.

“I want to keep you. I forgive you for the deception. I understand why you had to and I would have done the same thing,” his golden eyes were shining with quiet joy.

Derek slumped against him, his heart pounding. “Oh thank god. Stiles, I am going to make you so damn happy, I promise! Anything you want to do, anywhere you want to go, anything you want, I promise it’s yours.”

“Okay, first rule of our relationship, none of that. None of the ‘I’m so grateful’ crap. We are starting out on even ground right now. I love you and you love me and that is it. We are an equal unit. Ok?” Stiles said firmly. “Second rule, I love that you are calling me Stiles! No more Genim, got it?”

“God you’re sexy when you’re bossy,” Derek said with a cheeky grin, feeling almost lightheaded with happiness. “Since we aren’t dealing with magic anymore, I can call you whatever you want. Right, my love?”

Stiles blushed. “Right. And you’re a freaking werewolf! Derek, I am so fucking happy for you! You got your wolf back!” He couldn’t help jumping up and down.

Derek’s smile threatened to break his face, but he couldn’t help it. “Thank you! I’m so happy to. I shifted almost immediately after I felt my wolf back inside me. I ran through the forest for hours just enjoying the feeling of being myself again.”

Stiles eyes grew comically wide. “You have an actual wolf form? I must see it! Now!”

Laughing his ass off, Derek pulled his mate to him and lifted him, spinning him around. “Anything for you, mate!” Putting Stiles down, he backed up and stripped his clothes off. He made sure he did it slow enough to give his mate a good eye full. Judging by the gaping mouth and eyes that were suddenly dilated double their normal size, he figured it was a good eye full. Then he slipped his skin and stood before his mate as a wolf. Walking over, he nudged his mate’s hand, letting him know it was okay to touch him. He wanted his mate’s hands all over him, running through his fur, getting to know this form.

Stiles stared in shock at the large black wolf standing in front of him. The wolf’s head came nearly to his chest, he was huge. Getting the hint from Derek’s nudge, he ran his fingers through the thick, soft fur on his head. Kneeling, the wolf was now taller than him, but he just studied him, memorizing his form. He was stunning. “You are beautiful,” he told him. “So powerful.” He ran his hands down Derek’s back and down each of his legs. Derek even cooperated by offering a paw on Stiles’ knee so he could touch and press each paw and between each pad. Then, once he’d gotten familiar with his entire body, Stiles began scratching and rubbing. Between his ears, down his head, between his shoulder blades and down to that delicious place, right at the base of his spine.

Derek let out a low, pleased rumble and lowered his body to the floor, resting his head on Stiles’ knee. He couldn’t help taking in a big breath full of his mate’s scent. It was always strongest around the crotch and ass. Stiles smelled so mouthwatering, he wanted to strip him and just lick him head to toe. Inching forward, he thought he was being sneaky until he heard Stiles clear his throat.

“I know what you’re doing, Derek. You think I haven’t been around a crotch sniffing animal before? If you must do it, go ahead. I know it’s important for animals to know the scent of people, so let’s just get it over with,” Stiles said and sat back on his haunches, making Derek want to moan in delight. Then Derek gave an actual whine when Stiles spread his thighs.

Creeping forward, Derek gave Stiles time to back out, but nothing was said, Stiles just rested his hands on his thighs, giving Derek what he needed and so desperately wanted. He nudged his nose into the crease of Stiles’ groin and thigh and breathed in deep. Musky, a bit sweaty, earthy with a touch of that ink and earth scent that was essentially Stiles. Delicious. He let a soft, low sound rumble through his chest. Slow and steady, he let his nose drift across Stiles’ cock and balls, drinking in the scent there, strong and beautiful before exploring the other crease. It wasn’t until he heard a ragged breath from Stiles that he noticed his mate getting hard right next to his snout. He couldn’t blame him, he was a teenager, a virgin, and his mate was exploring his crotch. Moving back over to his cock he allowed one long lick straight up his cock, causing his mate to whine loud and long. He was delicious. With that, he smoothly shifted and ran his human nose up Stiles’ cock. The smell wasn’t as potent now, but he still smelled good. He slowly raised his body to kneeling, gently cupping Stiles’ cock and balls in one hand as he ran his nose up Stiles’ stomach to his chest, across his beautiful collar bones and up his neck to his ear. He nipped his lobe so soft and then at the encouraging noise Stiles let out, he nibbled it a bit harder before sucking it into his mouth, suckling hard.

“Oh goddess,” Stiles moaned. He hadn’t meant to get hard with a wolf nose in his crotch, but there was something about knowing Derek was in there that just did it for him. Now, Derek was being all sexy and, how did he know Stiles had a thing for his neck and ears? Stiles didn’t even know it. He was hard as a rock and let himself tilt his hips up into Derek’s hand further. Derek squeezed and Stiles cried out, unable to be silent anymore.

Derek brought their mouths together in a rush, unable to help himself. He needed his mate’s taste inside his mouth. He swept his tongue along Stiles’ plump lower lip, bitten in his burgeoning desire. Stiles let him in and their tongues massaged each other, Stiles curving his somehow to cup Derek’s and stroked along it. He didn’t know who taught him that trick, but he owed them something big. Reaching around, Derek massaged the back of his neck before reaching behind his mate to finally grasp his ass. Pert, round and a perfect handful. He’d wanted to squeeze it and massage the globes for weeks and it was perfection. Stiles’ hips thrust forward and Derek got his legs under himself somehow then stood, scooping his mate into his arms, urging him to wrap his legs around his waist. Alpha strength was something that was going to come in handy. He leaned forward on the bed and eased his mate down before stretching out on top of him. Due to the similarity in their height, their cocks immediately met and double groans flooded the room as Derek rolled his hips. Stiles’ hands clawed into his back as he spread his thighs wide, planted his feet on the bed and rolled clumsily up into him. The innocence of his mate turned him on like nothing else and he met Stiles’ grind with another of his own.

“I wanna make you come,” Derek whispered hotly in his ear.

“Yes, please,” Stiles’ whined.

“Can I open your pants? Just unzip them?” Derek asked. Receiving another ‘yes’, he quickly raised up a bit and before either knew had Stiles’ shirt pushed up and pants unzipped and his hard cock out and bouncing on his belly. “Oh damn, Stiles, your cock is gorgeous. I knew it would be,” Derek muttered as he ground them together and Stiles head tilted back, making his neck and back arch in a delicious display of need. Their copious pre-come made the slide easy and they were able to begin thrusting right away. Stiles’ movements were uncoordinated the first few thrusts, but he quickly got the hang of it. In fact, once he got the rhythm down, Stiles turned into a writhing, thrusting, sinuous siren, his body moving in ways that made Derek moan and dive down to take his mouth again. Soon, they were getting close to coming, Stiles had no idea how he’d lasted as long as he had. Something was eating at his mate bond, he needed something from Derek. What was it? Oh…

“Mark me, Derek. Make me your,” Stiles moaned in his lover’s ear.

Derek’s head jerked up, eyes dilated, flipping between alpha red and the familiar light green. “You know about that?”

“Uh huh,” Stiles panted, rolling his hips, dragging a groan from both of them. “Wolves bite to claim. Claim me.”

“Are you sure? This is a commitment,” Derek warned, kissing his way down to Stiles’ long neck, spying the exact spot he wanted to leave his mating mark.

“I was already committed to you, Derek. Come on, Alpha, bite me. I’m yours,” he whined as Derek nipped the sensitive skin of his throat.

“God yes,” Derek growled, his eyes bright red. Wrapping his arms under Stiles, he grabbed his shoulders and thrust hard against him. “Come for me, mate,” he growled, feeling his fangs descend, readying for the bond. The intention was to mate and mark, not change, his fangs shorter than they would be for changing.

Grinding and thrusting, they both grunted and cried out at the riotous feelings coursing through them.

Finally, Stiles cried out Derek’s name and Derek felt him coming against him. Feeling his own orgasm begin, he sank his teeth deep into his mate, the feeling so intense for him and his mate, they both jerked and shuddered.

Stiles had thought the bite might hurt, but it felt so damn good, his cock twitched, an immediate second orgasm coming on the tail of the first. “Yes!” he screamed, every exhale of breath was a groan of ecstasy. Then he was gripped in the need to claim his mate in return. Unable and unwilling to fight the feeling, he snapped his head forward and bit hard into the meat at the curve of Derek’s neck and shoulder.

Derek let go of Stiles’ skin as his mate bit him, their bond snapping tighter and stronger inside him. He was in shock that Stiles knew to do that but couldn’t concentrate as a second orgasm ripped through him. He roared, the sound so deep and loud, the windows rattled.

They both shook and trembled against each other as they came down from their high. Derek licked at Stiles’ mating bite, tired but proud to see his mark on him. Stiles’ bite hadn’t broken the skin, but Derek knew it would still leave a scar. They were now a mated pair. It was deeper than any marriage or commitment ceremony. It was stronger than the commitment they’d made as Spark and demi god.

Derek finally rolled off his mate but reached over and rubbed their mixed come into Stiles skin, all over his stomach and up under his shirt. His instincts, so new, but so strong, were pushing him to mark his mate, let any wolves know his mate was taken. Once he was satisfied, he grabbed Stiles’ hand and brought it to his stomach. His mate didn’t make any grossed-out faces and just did exactly as Derek had done.

“You are mine,” Derek growled, flashing his red eyes at Stiles.

“You are mine,” Stiles said, his Spark flaring up.

They lay there for a time just staring at each other intently. Stiles leaned up, resting his head in his clean hand. “Did we just get werewolf married?”

Derek chuckled before smiling happily. “We did. You seemed to know exactly what to do. Have you studied werewolves before?”

Stiles wiggled his hand. “A little. We have a couple in our school so I know the bare minimum, how they get changed and such, but no, I just had the urging to get bit, so I spoke up then I had the urge to bite back, so on and so forth. It felt right and it seemed to come from our bond so I didn’t question it.”

“I think it pays that you are used to following your Spark instincts. I think that helped you feel confident in your choices,” Derek mused.

“Absolutely,” Stiles nodded. “Wanna shower?”

“Absolutely,” Derek said and they chuckled.

They shared a long, hot shower, Stiles surprisingly comfortable being nude in front of his well-muscled mate. Derek worshipped his body as he washed every inch and Stiles returned the favor. It could have turned into another sexy interlude, but it stayed the worship it was. When they were done, Stiles cooked them dinner and they crashed into Stiles’ bed, falling asleep almost immediately. Stiles sleepily realized he hadn’t shared his discovery with Derek yet, but figured he would do it the next day. They had plenty of time together, the rest of their lives, filled with love.

 

*~*~*

 

Epilogue

 

Lydia had convinced Malia to come over when Stiles told Derek about his long lost relative. Upon hearing the news that he did indeed have kin, Derek collapsed in tears, holding onto Stiles and weeping his thanks into his mate’s shoulder. Malia, so touched by his reaction, allowed the werewolf to hug her. Her iron clad hold on her emotions crumbled when she realized she could live with Derek if she wanted and a single tear escaped her.

They spent the rest of that day together, getting to know each other. The rest of their friends were invited over to hear the story of Derek. They were all in awe and accepted him as Stiles’ mate and they celebrated that night with a movie marathon and greasy pizza.

Derek talked to them about the bite and how it would change their lives if they decided to accept it. He met Boyd and Erica from school and after getting to know them, decided to become a pack of three. It quickly became a pack of four when Malia asked for and received the bite. Derek didn’t know if it was hereditary, but Malia took to being a werewolf like she’d been born one. Scott also ended up asking for the bite and found a strength and freedom in his new life that he’d never had before. Though they weren’t all werewolves, their affection and respect for each other made them a pack born of love.

The pack had to separate for college, but the opportunities Derek had opened up in their lives was  too good to pass up. While they were gone – Stiles didn’t go far, enrolling in Stanford – Derek got busy on a pack house. He had video call after video call with different pack members getting everyone’s ideas for the house and made sure his architect took everything into consideration.

When the pack came home, they were astounded by the sight that greeted them. They had a home. A safe place away from the world, a place where they were always accepted, always supported, always loved. Home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your support! You are wonderful folks, thank you for staying patient.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Be kind please! Consider this like the karmic magic in the story, whatever you leave comes back around to you. ;)


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